You said I want to be married.
You said I want to be married
to you. You said We were children
together. Who better?
You said I moved for you once
already. You said I need this.
You said It will be quick.
Backyard. July. My mother
will cook, my brother will DJ.
Here’s the date. Here’s the phone.
You said There is so much
to do: spray the bushes
with repellent, bind
these sunflowers with twine.
Hack this stump down
to a hollow, fill it with stone.
Here. Standing in July,
in the backyard, reciting the words
you wrote in ballpoint
on a scrap of ruled paper. Here
I am. And slowly, as if
emerging from a long sleep,
and looking around,
and confusing myself
for the cufflinks, the hushed
crowd, the white tent
billowing like a sail – I take
your hand. I start to speak.
- Edgar Kunz, from “Tap Out”