The first wedding.
A page out of Little Women and scrapbook paper put to good use.
Hands Creek Harbor on a Friday morning, before the rain came. Driving over to our spot, wedding bells in Bruno Mars' Marry You, chiming as we turned the corner. Walking down the hill of an aisle, white jumper and denim jacket with Mrs. Ziskin emblazoned on the back. Around the big oak tree, to the landing. To him. Somebody Loved playing on the phone speakers.
We sat and wrote each other notes that we fit into the fold of paper rings, to open in October, before we sign the ketubah in front of our families. A love note living on my ring finger; a secret kiss. Just us two.
When the world is exploding, you want to hold a little tighter. You don't want to wait for things you already know anymore.
How like a song it sounds; husband and wife.