Samantha’s Unwritten Vows
The aisle stretched longer that day,
a white river with no other shore.
Her fingers crushed the lace of her gown—
Where is he?
The guests’ whispers grew teeth,
gnawing the silence between hymns.
Later, they’d say he was the villain,
the man who fled his own shadow.
No one mentioned the envelope
thick with cash in the sexton’s pocket,
or the father’s wine-stained lips
sealing a lie:
“She deserves better.”
(Oh, but the knife twists
when the hand you kiss
sharpens the blade.)
Samantha collects the petals
of her bouquet one by one
each a word from a vow
she’ll never hear.
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