We had a secret wedding
I crossed my legs towards yours
And you, yours, towards me
and we created a space between
the church, the steeple
I will sit like this till my kneecaps burn
Because at age thirteen I read an article about body language
And thought, this is my chance
If you tuck your hair behind one ear
you’re pulling back a curtain
only for them
available and private
How could anyone not pick up on this
closed to the person on your left
open to the person on your right
safely concealed by your clamped thighs
hands tip-toeing towards each other
eyes straight ahead
every thread of the couch fabric a small fence to climb
We could find a celebrant – no – let’s just do it right here – barely moving – yes
First we breathe in, and sigh our vows on the exhale
but that’s too loud
next we silently mouth them
but that’s too loud
finally we let our facial expressions do the talking
blink twice for “I do”
while our friends surround us in this darkened lounge
watching the new season premiere of The Sopranos
and my eyelids crash together
hard as a car door slammed shut in anger
and I can’t tell if you did blink
or if it was light from the television twitching on your face
This is why you must be careful with your body language
The power didn’t always exist
when I first tried to communicate through the various foldings of myself
tonight the power came all at once
and it’s too much
I didn’t mean to get married
inside our mirrored legs
no longer a church
but a rockpool when the tide’s out
and now
I have so much paperwork
Laura Vincent (Ngāti Māhanga) is a writer from rural New Zealand. She has a thirteen year old food blog called hungryandfrozen.com, and her poetry and fiction has appeared in Entropy, Peach Magazine, The Spinoff, and the International Institute of Modern Letters journal Turbine|Kapohau.
