That Halloween I wore your wedding dress, our children spooked & wouldn’t speak for days. I’d razored taut calves smooth, teased each blown tress, then—lipsticked, mascaraed, & self-amazed— shimmied like a starlet on the dance floor. I’d never felt so sensual before— Catholic schoolgirl & neighborhood whore. In bed, dolled up, undone, we fantasized: we clutched & fused, torn twins who’d been denied. You were my shy groom. Love, I was your bride.
From Darling Vulgarity by Michael Waters. Copyright © 2006 by Michael Waters. Used by permission of BOA Editions, Ltd.