Buried In Her Wedding Dress

Buried in her wedding dress

was a bride

the women sent her blessings

as she walked down the aisle

to her grave

Her dear black pearls choked her throat,

and the lush skirts of velvet—

feigning they were light—

akin the phantom word love

weighed down on her body—

shoulders bowed

as if in silent weep.

She was a bride

smiling in her wedding dress

as her father led her to the coffin—

and laid her down

stabbed her heart and split it thrice

as she whispered

I do

I do

I do

Buried in her wedding dress

was a bride

rotting beneath her stitched veil

hand in hand

with sickly skin

as she wilted away

side by side

the banquet of burnt chrysanths

held in her other hand

pretending to be alive.