I don't know if I should trust her when she says,
"Let's get away.". She's said it several times before:
As we met for her sister's wedding, waiting for
A rental car beneath the fierce Las Vegas sun,
Family members all around us, squabbling the way
They do; as we brushed past each other in
The middle of her own reception, looking as if
She might bolt at once, still in her wedding dress.
We've talked about where we could go, to Thailand
Lately, but we haven't. I'm afraid we never will.
She seems sincere, and when I look into her agitated
Face, I ache to take the savior's role, but, soon, she
Reassumes her duties. We don't get away.