So like I might have lied.
I hope you don’t mind.
It’s not your fault.
Staring in seclusion
for answers that make sense
of the night through crinkled eyes.
Rapid statements focus on life commitments,
commitments that rearrange plans and place
us in a framed picture of you in a wedding dress.
We grow old kissing beneath the maple tree,
throwing yellow and brown crisp leaves, twirling to the ground,
making love to the beat of a song, a song we fell in love with.
Too many memories I made
before I asked what you wanted to know.
I do. Want to marry you. I do.
Forgive me when I lied;
I was scared, scared of failing like my father.
But I won’t. Fail you, I won’t.
(© 2022 AC)