the poetry knook :: the poetry of stephen m. james :: indianapolis, indiana » wedding_night

God had a sense of humor

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

God had a sense
of humor that he didn’t share with His angels
entertaining Adam and Eve as they created Seth.
Laughter was heard on a wedding night
between the pain and the pleasure:
ingredients for a sticky sauce
that adheres family portraits and
slippery noodles to a single, circular wall.

Getting her off, his chest

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

He’s spent the hour deciding how to get her head to her pillow and off his chest where lay her silhouetted cheekbones, high and smooth, against his sternum rising slow. His eyes–breaths before closing–stay ajar to see his reason–her–to open: sweat with hair, her humid breath undulates love. He’s lost this hour, the first of twenty-four, in thought, recounts this day, ceremony, the vows, her muddy eyes now veiled in sleep, her arms, his, interwoved in figure eight. He grasps for pen and pad on nightstand out of reach to write his joy, his words: hopeful to not to wake his bride from needed rest.

Laughter on a wedding night

Stephen M. James — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Laughter on a wedding night
Thank God, no professionals
for this is a covenant not a job.
How do we use these things?
Oh well, a lifetime to figure out. . . .