Bridal Veil

You wanted a painting to feel
to the brim: cracks sandpapered 
shut, holding perfect pebble drops
that smacked and stretched
to form you. What you wanted,
was to be the glass, full,
and clear, and not the parched
throat, stretched towards it.

But you are more sky than glass.
With dribbling blood and sighing
lungs, always on the move.

You are the basin spilling
at the foot of the waterfall.
You are the water pulsing
drop by drop through the pool.

At once, you are flatlining
and also falling. You are drop,
and you are river, and you are
the bowl of water and the leaf
floating atop. You are rushing
always towards tomorrow.

Never quite full, but always 
filling up. Not quite full, but 
always more than enough.

Alixa Brobbey is a poet and law student currently based in Provo, Utah.