upon returning wedding gifts without a receipt

traffic light
in newport
bride on the back
of a motorcycle
you smile all
detroit cowboy in
cordovan boots
and say
i promise to never do that
to you honey

what?
make me a bride…
or put me on a motorcycle?

your answer

the latter

but
we never registered
with each other
used assumed names
never made it to the black tie
formal ring fittings
the wedding party got arrested
the priest needs and intervention
the photographer lost focus
altar forsaken and set ablaze
with a unity candle

so i’m giving back all the packages
so many both sides guests weeping
into miss you tissue
thank you but we’ll not be needing
the stars
the moon
the light
the ocean
the city skyline
candle lit chili dinners
love stories
hope chests
his and hers towels
baby shoes
it’s not that i don’t find them beautiful
anymore
just wasted on me
see
i had grown accustomed
to sharing
all of it
with you