My Best Friend Got Married Today

Four

Or maybe five

Tight

Bog stalls

And I’m in the one at the end.

Crying.

Laura says,

“Em, they’re going. Be quick.”

 

I wait until her stilettos are popping slugs

Out on the cold grass,

And then I wriggle out of my high heels and out of the window, so I do not see the piece of paper whispered,

Under the door, “Wrong one.

Sorry.

I love you.”

 

 

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