Gravitational Pull

Destination weddings
aren’t for the entire family
unless there’s a surplus
after the bills are paid
and the 401K’s aren’t suffering—
or unless your hosts
are as generous
as they are ostentatious,
which is hardly ever the case.
And so it was just me
representing my tribe
and you representing yours—
both of us sitting on the beach
behind the groom,
who was our mutual friend
during different years
in different locations
and we both knew him so well
that we agreed in a whisper
it must have been his bride’s idea
to have it here, to ask loved ones
to fly across the world
for a three day celebration
that had a 50% chance
of lasting forever.
And it was hard to say goodbye
on the last night
after the wine and the dancing
and the walk on the beach.
And the little pile of memories
we made was solid enough
for you to stand on
after you walked me to my room
on the fifth floor.
“Tell me to leave,” you said,
in a voice that turned to powder
as it passed between your lips.
And for a moment
I felt a gravitational pull
so disorienting
that I leaned into you
and brushed your cheek with a kiss
before I stepped out of your orbit,
and apologized
that I’d be going to bed tonight
alone.

 

DeMaris Gaunt
4-4-15

 

 

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