Wedding Night, poetry by Miguel Balboa D'Mendoza at nic

Wedding Night

Wedding Night

written by: Miguel Balboa D’Mendoza


It was that night, dear Imran,
when you asked of wedding nights,
for soon, you shyly said,
at last, you were to wed
and bed one just fifteen,
and you, nineteen,
a good match,
you were told
and you agreed
to dowry asked,
though seeing just
her kohl-lined eyes,
the rest veiled and unseen;
not that it matters now.

It was another night
of patrol rounds, of tires ablaze,
of petrol bombs, and riot shields,
for which, you said in jest,
you wore again two layers
of soft underwear beneath
groin-chaffing, combat pants.

It was the night, I answered
that, indeed, there’d be,
for her some pain,
some blood,
some tears,
perhaps, to mourn
some sort of dying,
worthy more for you,
a virgin, too,
you shyly said that night
we saw the dead date trunk
across our path we tried
to clear away,
when suddenly,
it was all light,
and then all darkness
like on wedding night,
after the feast,
the dancing,
the teasing laughter,
with the last light
snuffed out,
plunging in the pain,
bringing out the blood,
drawing in the dying,
triggering the tears.

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