Love in the World
She had stood in the mirror
With the warm light
Bathing her soft, doubting, face
And the veil that had been pinned
With so much care
Fell,

We would call it a veil
Here, but perhaps
Not where she was from.

Unlike other girls, her wedding
Was the stuff of nightmares.

She
Did
Not
Love
Him.

She knew the reason for
Her marriage. He was
Rich and her father
Was not. He
Could take care of her better.
He
Needed a wife.
He
Was old and wanted
A warm bed
And a son.

She was just a face--
Young and pretty--
For everything wrong
With this world.

Her fiance had bought
Her with a duck, two goats,
And a promise
For a better life.

Her own mother cried.

Her own father tried
To make it
Seem like
Nothing.

Her little sisters were jealous--
As she once would have been.

Her older brother wondered
How old
He would be
When he
Got
A bride.
When he bought a bride.

When her dress and veil were made
By her mother and grandmother and aunts
She watched
From a hidden place
As their fingers bled out
And their tears
Completed something
That was meant
To be
For her happiest day.

Bending--
She picked up the fallen
Veil and repinned it.
It was her duty.
She did not have a choice.
She would make
Her nightmare
A dream.
Someday her sisters
Would do the same,
As she and her mother had.
And perhaps--
In the future--
A daughter of hers
Would do the same.

She had, at most,
An hour until
She would
Be
A
Wife.

She was thirteen.