The Day Itself

the plaster bride and groom borrowed from my parents’ wedding cake

looked nothing like us, the proportions all wrong.  

now, years of pulling together

has shaped us into nesting spoons.  

people talk about marriage as work, but ours has always seemed like breathing. i know this is not normal.

i remember the day itself, the surge of feeling

shrinking my vows to a thin whisper,

the enormity of forever tucked inside familiar, steady you.