Hand In Hand

Framed by moonlight, Neither sunlit consciousness nor death's aegis, Will come between our union tonight, For I can no longer deny myself the happiness they promise, Every creak in the floorboard and fluttering of my heart is talking, Urging me to become the prince of her story, The future they've envisioned for us seems like a fantasy, A sleeping damsel in distress calling for a knight in shining armor to defeat the societal dragon, And exchange an eternal vow through one swift motion, Life after death wrapped in each other's arms, Devoid of doubt or personal persecution I leave the door ajar, Allowing the night sky to be our chapel and the stars our ladies in waiting, The moon illuminating your mattress altar in a white crystal morning, I stand behind your headboard, Too far away to kiss but close enough to touch, Venerating your resting form that I for so long have secretly adored, Stricken by your dormant beauty I use your pillow as a crutch, To gaze longingly at your chest as I lay a single rose, Commemorating our transition out of life's comatose, Our bodies a mere breath away from coexistence, The night breeze envelops my senses with your intoxicating fragrance, Leaving my arm weak and trembling as I raise my knife, Surrendering to our last moments of mortality I crane my neck to give a final goodbye, Your terminal expression captured in my knife's reflection, I plunge the knife into my chest embracing their postmortem romance doctrine, And without volumes of poetry nor gifts of gold and ivory, I inter our wedding in your bedroom cemetery, Our chests adorned with matching wounds, Only a few moments left before my dream comes true, So for the first time I hold your hand, I sever it, sewing it to my chest as a macarbre wedding band, Christening our matrimony between corpse and man, A loving bond the world cannot understand, Never again will I be alone, Nor will she need a tombstone.