Oh Sweet Slumber

It’s my turn now.

I walk to the place sad faces had gone before me,

And stand –

Unnerved –

In front of the sleeping woman I've known all my life.

I watch her face,

Smooth and pale,

With perfect closed eyes;

And a look of dreamless slumber,

Like an empty doll,

Painted up to please those that wander toward it.

I look at her hands,

Folded and placed;

Like origami paper,

Over a book,

That she didn’t believe in –

But her parents did –

This ceremony wasn’t really for her.

Her tattoos are covered,

Her piercings removed,

Her hair dyed a plain brown,

Her dress a clean-pressed white,

Gleaming pearls are strewn about her neck.

I look at her parents,

Then back at the woman I love,

I take up her cold hand;

And tear away the book underneath,

I remove her parents from her,

And let who she was shine through.

Her parents gawk at me,

Horrified they gather their trinkets from the floor;

But the woman I love –

When I look at her again –

Is smiling;

So I can go on,

Knowing that my beloved is sleeping sweetly.