wedding

my cousins are getting married.
i want to emulate the glaciers:
be dramatic with my ceremonies.
melt in the most complete ways possible.
they are looking for a venue
& searching for the right bite 
of earth. a cake grows
in their bath tub. i everyday
& everymorning over & over.
with the same wifely spoon
i swallow a bowl of water.
a veil sprouts from her forehead
& in the mirror each morning
she snips it with garden shears.
tossing it in the bathrooms 
private trashcan. 
everyone i know is getting married.
engagement rings roll down main street.
children are catching them
& giving them to crushes & goldfish.
weddings by the creeks. weddings 
from the branches of birch trees.
weddings in the dead of night
with no witnesses. i find my own
in a snail shell uncoaxable. 
i whisper to the little moment 
in the hopes he'll unfurl 
& tell me something brief & beautiful.
i need a wedding this week
& another one to look forward to 
in the next few months. my cousins 
are younger than me. they have
a wedding registry. they have 
preferred fine china. they are asking
for sets of wine glasses. 
i turn the faucet & red wine
spills out. please, i don't want
to celebrate anything. not until. 
not until. i don't know what do
with my fingers. i wrap them
in twist-ties. put the snail shell
in a tupperware container 
to keep the wedding fresh for when
it's ready. once i had one.
glossy & short. a small service.
just me & the first snow in early december.
come back come back. wait for me.
my cousins kiss each other 
like goldfish. i sleep standing up.