I Do

At the last second,
Just before I'm supposed to say, I do,
I wonder what would happen if I say, I don't,
Because that's what's in the back of my throat
Waiting to get out,
I do.
Two words, so definitive,
And if believed and upheld,
Would mean the end of everything I know,
And the beginning of promises, hopes, ideas.
I consider saying, I don't,
I really think about it,
Or about saying nothing at all,
Making up my own vows on the spot.
But a woman is staring at me,
Perplexed at my hesitation.
Behind her, friends and family are waiting.
But for what?
For me to echo words I'm not sure I can support?
To simply get on with it so they can start drinking?
The official stares at me, nodding, smiling.
His eyes are trying to reassure me, as if to say,
It's OK to be worried, to not be sure,
But say the words already, will ya?
There will be plenty of time later to
For now, hell, what is it I'm supposed to say?
What is it that's making me dizzy and to lose all feeling in my feet?
I don't,
But I do.

© Poem Fix 2012
The Marriage of Tristram and Isoude Les Blanches Mains by Edward Burne-Jones

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