my butter churn

it wasn't a shotgun

wedding,

but it felt

that way.

her father was italian.

mustache

and muscles.

a wife beater t-shirt

showing off

his tattoos.

he knew from day one

when he

met me,

what i was up to.

he actually told his

wife,

my future mother in law,

that it was time

i started paying

for the milk,

and to buy the cow.

from then on i thought

of my bride

to be as a butter churn.