invisible groom

Dear whiskey,

I never spoke my vows to you.

I never pledged my loyalty to your fraudulent glow of

glass jar fireflies, that twinkling trap of revelry,

because I've never known a feeling more lonely

than when you reach for me. So I'm sure that

I never invited you to my bed, yet frozen here I lie

in your sweat-yellowing linen embrace, while I

stay awake thinking about the looped-wire snare

that you hang nightly in the fucking air, ready to trap

any of my words born with necks thick enough

to tangle up. And hey, you can't commit to a dead thing, so

I know I never slid a ring over the sour foul finger on

the left hand that rots in my kitchen overnight and

slashes my nostrils like broken glass on bare feet

those mornings when he’s still asleep and I'm

up first, opening the blinds to let some light in.

But you're cleverest when you're gone,

and so too is the bone-tight corset you dress me in,

because just one sharp breath will surprise me, reminds me,

your creeping absence was only a clear day in spring and,

like lightning in the rain—

when I hear thunder,

I know I'll see you again.

In wait,

A reluctant bride.