wedding blues

we come before the bells,
the perfect flower disarray
on the carpet and the glass
and stones of chandeliers
hurt our eyes that see
us, fools for eternity
the red streaks on your porcelain cheeks shatter
i've never seen such longing
to love someone so brittle
and passing as June in years,
that i'd like to hold
all your bones close,
even if they cut me open
where i hurt the most,
when you look into my eyes,
and hold me gently there
before the bells come for me