On Being Wed
Beside Lake Champlain in high July. Hands
bound in white cloth, we paused, were wished upon:
may your days together be good and long
upon the earth. The lake glittered, called
forth the myth of the monster inside it,
unknowable. Flat-out crude, sweat trickled
down my inner thigh. All of love is pure
speculation. I promised you safety,
truth, the long work of lasting beside you,
knowing what lasting requires of those of
us who’ve lived before like molting birds. I
promised to love you as long as I could,
and to treat you with love for as long as
I live. I’ve failed, yes, but not in all ways.
Katherine Fallon received her MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Meridian, Passages North, Permafrost, Colorado Review, and Foundry, among others. Her chapbook, The Toothmakers' Daughters, is available through Finishing Line Press. She teaches in the Department of Writing & Linguistics at Georgia Southern University, and shares domestic square footage with two cats and her favorite human, who helps her zip her dresses. She and her favorite bread recipe can be found at katherinefallon.com, and she is reachable on Instagram @ghostelephants.
