Love winds around my tongue when I look at you in your wedding
dress
You made it,
You made it, and the machine pricked your fingers.
You hide the injury with a ring.
If I were half as beautiful as you,
I know I'd drown in my own reflection
But your wholesome perfection is such that even you don't suspect your divinity,
and are still alive and well.
Lord knows I delight in the way you dress.
The way you cook in your finest dress,
How you helped with the arrangements in your latest.
How you think you know I love you best,
and I do
but that's not half
of the truth which is I stammer and sweat
not because I can't handle you
not because I can't please you
I do
I do
I do.
