blue butterfly – something old

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We were married once

in an old, broken down church, I wore white

with lace, we spent our vows trying

to convince each other why

we were perfect.

 

I wore white, the colour of the grave

of my father, who could never walk me down the aisle

so I walked myself on his bones

as we tried

but we were in an old, broken down church

and we were married once.

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