# Ghost marriage

Дарина Юрьевна Татаринова

In crimson silk, a silent bride stands still,

On paper doll her portrait's fixed in place,

Ghost marriage vows, against her absent will,

Her painted smile, a mocking, cold embrace.

She cannot bow, I guide her fragile form,

The wine she drinks - a trickle down her chin,

The offered sweet falls down to dusty floor,

A silent feast, where life has never been.

Where is my love? Is she by Yellow Springs,

A spirit lost, a whisper in the air?

Or bones below, where silent earthworms cling?

This tablet cold, or this doll I can't bear to see?

It matters not, though answers hide from sight,

This ghost, this girl, is mine, forever mine