Rice still stuck in her hair
she turns from the jetway
tosses the bouquet
to weeping family
hand clenched around his
the ring pressing hard against bone
like martial law crushing lungs
From the exit row
they peer out the tiny window
wave goodbye to anybody
Crying permeates the cabin
Someone lights a cigarette
Another unwraps a pastilla
A mother hums a lullaby
A hospital & apartment wait
in Akron, Ohio
Nothing else
but blue jeans & Diana Ross
She fingers the rosary
her mother slipped in her pocket
wonders
should she pray
— Leslieann Hobayan ’95