She was crooked teeth and rottenness
masquerading as the promise of a lifetime
disguised as a bright bride
and you thought you saw all of her
When she spoke, her voice came with razors
pricking little insults
and be glad now she found another river
to float down, to be free of that sound
At the time, seeing her through dull eyes,
really seeing only windmills, a belief in love
for love’s sake before growing.
