Names on the napkin, her head adorned with pretty hair pins.
Holding a bouquet, laughing over her glass of wine, the ring on her finger emitting a divine shine.
My heart pounds each time she looks at me with a smile, her husband’s arms on her shoulders meanwhile.
I clear my throat and down the beers – heart wrenched apart, threatening tears.
Behave yourself, said the mind but the heart said, it was okay to not be fine.
Her gown as white as her heart, her smile as beautiful as contemporary art.
Still in love with her, oh it doesn’t end here.
Names on the napkin, together with her’s I wished it was mine – I lost my wife, call for more wine.
