When she first came down the aisle,
he gave this gasp,
like he was seeing her again for the
first time.
His lips curved into a grin,
much like yours did
after months of separation.

I couldn’t keep myself in the present.
People blurred together as one
constant motion. The room spun,
twinkling visages bouncing
light from table to table
until it ceased,
and you and I moved as one on the
dance floor,
far in the future.
I blinked.
Still there
(My head on your shoulder, your arms
around my waist,
every time we twirled
we were both grinning, ear to ear).

I became an observer to
what could be,
what should be.

The moment passed,
and they once again captivated
the floor,
but every once in awhile,
song after song
(be it bad 80s pop or
the country hits both of our
families enjoy),
I caught a glimpse of our life,
and all I could do was
watch from
afar.