issue 1 (page 3)

I can marry you.
I am 19 and you are 23. 
We fit together like broken
glass and jaw lines.  
When I am naked and you are clothed 
your eyes are scared and hungry. 
You said I made you believe in God 
and holidays.  
Tenderly rubbing over my thighs and my back, 
you tell me that you don’t know what to do with me
like I am a problem to be endured or dealt with.  
We are lying on our backs, our eyes flirting furiously
with the ceiling tiles. 
I am quiet and you telling me about how you would
like to have a child with me
so it could be beautiful.  
Love, love, love, you are singing 
the words to a song that I do not know. 
That night we became ordained
ministers for free through an online
universalist Unitarian church. 
We married the tables to the chairs and the bedside
lamp to the night stand using Naked Lunch
as a bible stand in.  
To the nonsense songs of the addicts and the love lost,
furniture dancing, wooden kisses, lights on, 
lights off, I do, I do.


__________
gabby gabby was once described as '…hot as oatmeal just out of the microwave!' and twice compared to an obscure canadian singer-songwriter but only when her hair is wet.  the author has since declined to submit herself to review.  she runs a blog called 'gabby gabby poetry' at gabbygabbypoetry.blogspot.com.  if you like yourself even a little bit, you will check it out.

<