Wedding

The lights are in
paper lanterns, on a string, and
hung from eave to branch

bare arm touches bare arm, and skin
is cool, and moist, from night air, and heads
rest on shoulders and chests, for comfort, for
being weary, and for
missing someone, and hands stray to cheeks
and brows, and hair is
tucked behind ears, and twirled idly, and words
are only murmured

music strays from here to there, carries and
fades, dew collects on the spider webs

remembering is this,
is a literal trap
gray dawn spreads, not breaks,

the faint smell of eucalyptus, and
those who sleep
now flying

gray dawn spreads
indifferent
and turns the windows
opaque with light.