The Kremlin’s silks
billowed around my husband’s legs
like hot air balloons. I came gowned in Taj Mahal,
still pools reflecting my glide down the aisle.
The bedchambers in my depths glowed like jewels
while inside my groom, a general slipped poison
into the prime minister’s vichyssoise.
The pyramids of Giza looked delicious
on the banquet table, but crumbled like sand
in our mouths. If only we had split them–
we would have found chocolate
drizzled into hieroglyphs,
could have crunched pharaohs
dipped in candy sarcophagi.
Originally published in Winter 2011.
Euphony Journal 