The Wedding Whisper

Since their own wedding,
So many years ago,
They had attended many more.

Each, at first, reminding them of their
Preceding ceremony,
Where they stood before one another,
And committed to those same vows.

Energizing, eyes on eyes,
Centering their hearts on the memory
Of their day.

But over the years, without forethought,
The memory, and reminiscence of that day,
Began to fade.

Kids, and work…
And the complications of life,
Slowly, unseen, unfelt…
Dimmed the light…
Separated them.

And even now, attending yet another wedding,
Watching in slow motion,
The same procession,
Hearing, but not really, the same
Public affirmation of love…
They both passed another milestone of

Pleasantries spoken, congratulations given
Came with enthusiasm for this new bride and groom,
But without feeling their own past joy.

The dinner, and then to the party afterwards,
They smiled and had the same conversations
With other guests…
As if rehearsed…
And it was.

Too many years.

As the reception came to a close,
He wondered if his marriage was…as well.

Though appearing perfect on the outside,
He, and she, were empty… lonely…on the inside.

And as if on cue, a familiar slow dance,

From so many weddings, over the years,

He took her hand and led her,
To the dance floor,
Making yet another immemorable

The beat was starkly familiar,
And they easily assumed that
All-to-familiar rhythm…

But then, without warning,
Or explanation,
She pulled him close.

In perfect, synchronization,
As their bodies moved unthinkingly,
She put her head on his shoulder,
And exhaled.

Sensual, warm, captivating breath…

And there, in a small, complete
Glorious whisper…

She professed, totally.

“I love you…will you still have me?”

It was as if all the years were shed,
All the ambivalence erased,
All the emptiness filled.

His heart, remembering how to beat,
Did so, again
So strongly, still for the beautiful woman,
Giving herself to him,
At this wedding.

And these words came to his lips,
And spoken with his eyes…

“I do…please, please…have me as well.”

And she whispered again,
Locking her moist eyes,
With his.

“Yes…yes…a thousand times…yes.”


© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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