by Paula Brown

Were you in the dark?
The sun this morning found a hem of beads somewhere beneath white satin.
What was left after the smoldering: a jeweled bodice, seared tufts of desert grass.

Were you alone?
When the match was set alight torching the smooth taffeta between your fingers–
Your feet deep in sand while flames arose amid crisscrossed tracks of coyotes and rattlesnakes.

Tell me how your rage fell off a cliff and tumbled into this unlikely scene.
Tell me how betrayal is a brutal beast fit for uncommon consequence.
Even now what remains sparks a reflection of something passionate and beautiful.

You must have been a dazzling bride.

Paula Brown’s poetry, essays, and fiction have appeared in South Dakota Magazine, Adirondack Review, Whitefish Review, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Anthology Nature, and Letters I’ll Never Send Anthology among others. She and her husband live in Arizona with a pack of dachshunds that run the place. Paula is on Instagram @yesvanillabean, Bluesky @azpaula.bsky.social, and Facebook @doxzen.