sometimes, i can still close my eyes and see
those twisted old oak trees stretching up into
forever blue sky.
if you had asked me that day, when we laid
tangled up in bed and promises neither of us
had the power to keep, i would have said yes.
i would have married you in a pretty lace dress,
stumbled through my vows,
picked at my flowers,
kissed you a little too long
when they announced us husband and wife.
you would have joked about me
getting too tipsy on champagne at the reception
i would have raised my left eyebrow and said my
daddy was right about you not being good enough
for me just to see you laugh.
i’m glad i never had the chance to make that mistake,
but on others, my body aches for the feel of lace,
the feel of lilies, and the feel of you.