Graybeal-Gowen Prize for Virginia Poetry
The Contours of Marriage
by Arianne Elena PayneBirmingham, Alabama 1952
we’re just bone beneath
the foot of the statute
never the right kind
of light, of love—lashed
with bridal wreath, laughed
& gasped at my groom
can’t be man, can’t know wife
don’t got write to paper,
to a drama of snow, a train
of sugar—they hate us so
they turn the rice to rocks
white & clogged, my eyes
capture the mannequin
bound by glass, by crows,
to cell itself from my touch
those shops, choked with cotton
laced with unworn gowns
& longing, wouldn’t let us in
errant intimacies—we hallow this
union: simple sticks jumping broom
this dress as blue as this life
as full as my mouth of yours