fragments from a wedding ______________________________ & a funeral • my sister janice is getting married. she’s being passed around like she’s bread, & everyone’s butter, complimenting her hair, her make up, her dress: a pearl’s insides. she’s blow-fishing BIG with love— laughing HAHAHAHAHAHAHA—& you’re telling me you hate weddings. i don’t get why we still do this, you say. i never want to be given away. i only owe the earth my body. [1] • everyone’s raving about love & i mention how i once read you can measure a couple’s love by how much water they make together. the science is in the hands. palms should be leaking. [2] • gravity’s not kind to my tía sulema’s joints, so she’s a fucking bitch. as soon as she arrives at the wedding, she’s criticizing my haircut, pointing out my acne, judging my shoes, raging, WHY ARE YOU WASTING ALL YOUR WONDERS? [3] • you ask me how grad school’s going, & i tell you i’m being fucked by theory & dead poets, & you laugh. then, you tell me about another kind of fucked—how this morning a stranger keyed YOU FUCKING SLUT onto your car while you were getting your hair done for the wedding. which you don’t cry about or make a fuss over. instead, you say, some people need to practice magic & seek help. [4] • snap snap. i take photos of you & my sister stacey at the wedding alter. snap your arms are paper-clipped together, mouths flirting mirrors. snap snap. my sister grabs your waist & your bodies form a loving Y. snap snap. my mom, a bystander, swooning: THEY LOOKS SO BLESSED . snap snap. [5] • you question why i’m not looking to date anyone, & i tell you that my last ex said sleeping with me was like trying to sleep with a dead body. which we both laugh at. & then you hug me with wisdom: men are ragge you’ll be fine. you just need to dance yourself clean . [6] • during dinner, you say you know the equation […]
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