the picture of me
in a white suit,
black lapels and black
stripes
down the legs.
i have
longish hair, a thin
wisp
of a mustache
on my
youthful face.
i'm
walking down the aisle
of a church,
with
a tiny blonde girl
in arm.
all of her in white lace,
nineteen, perhaps
and me
a mere twenty-one.
the smile does little
to hide
the fear
of what's to come.
at some point i have carefully
removed
her from the photo
with scissors.
like now,
she's no
longer there.
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