Suzanne

The aisle it was long and dark, garbage cans kept the watch

The chapel walls were old and lined and the streetlamp lit its mouth

The altar was the lesser half of an old forgotten couch.



The bride stumbled nervously, a box fell in her flight

She cursed her trusting foolishness for leaving the sanctuary of the light

A crumbled linen handkerchief, a little girl's fright.



The groom followed slowly and the wine dripped from his chin

Panting that the holy doors would part and let him in

His candle burned with whiteness, stiff and violent.



The sound of breath in darkness gave away the bride

His eyes said : 'I am the body' - and her's said : 'I am the blood'

And as the candle pushed below, exploding wax and fear

The handkerchief fell from her hands and as usual there were tears.