You’ll never see a bride wearing black
Nor carrying black roses
Or wishing for crows atop their big fluffy gray cake
This would be as awkward as a white canvas with no hint of paint
I’d laugh at the fool trying to describe it as a masterpiece
But that is the fantasy one sees on “their” most spectacular day
Ribbons and perfume strung through the atmosphere
And the words from a groom promising to cling to his wife
Heard by everyone in the room
But no one sees her feet as they make indentions on the vinyl kitchen floor
Yes, the wife,
She who has rights in the world, watching her spouse wind his way out the front door
Wiping the fingerprints behind him, waiting for something more
Her fingers swell, and leave a black ring of betrayel
Watching him break all the vows of honor and grace
What a sight to see when she walks in on he who masturbates
To the sound of his ego he vigorously beats
Clung instead to a skinny, six inch pillar of waste
-Susie
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