Young scared blushing
Her lace bodice cage
A white backdrop
To the bouquet in her hands
Her daddy’s arm
Guides the drooping wing
While her veiled frown
Watches carefully each carpeted step
Three meet at stage bottom
Her pale bile cheeks face
His concerned paperclip grin
The back of her father turned now
Towards the stained altar
Where three candles loom on display
And a lit match
Stains the white tablecloth
Her blush drains as he places
The tip of his waxy pillar to the middle candle
His eyebrows heighten
With her added flame
The marriage candle screams
It’s flame pointing downward
A wax trail etched 6 weeks prior
By the tears under her veil
Hearing the white of her gown
Her parent’s naïvely smile
During the hackneyed union of two wax people
In whose basement I was already placed
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