Blue Mountain Arts Poetry Contest

A Conversation with a Future Husband
by Madeleine Magnant

Forty-First
Contest
Second Place

I want to feel like we’ve already been married
Long before gowns and veils come into play.
Maybe “married” is a thing that happens without warning
Some days, months, or years before even considering
Making the promise.

Which, of course, begs the question:
Are we — two longtime friends
Who have kissed when they shouldn’t have
And stayed when they should have —
Married?

If so,
Do you think it happened when we went grocery shopping —
When we couldn’t find the sparkling cider,
When you paid (without asking, mind you, don’t think I forgot),
When you kissed me in the car (only after asking)?

Or was it a tired eyes, “mmmhm” Tuesday
When I sat beside you, like always,
When we exchanged exhausted smiles, like
Halves of a ring?

If so,
Which of us is to blame for this engagement?

Did my hands ask for yours at 4 AM, during that thunderstorm,
When they sent you a sweet (absolutely incoherent) nothing text
From my almost-asleep mind that still knew it needed you?

Did your hands ask for mine while they rested on my shoulder, shaking,
As you laughed that traffic in the city would be “so much worse to drive in than this,” like
All your future steering wheels would know my handprints, my road rage,
And me?

Maybe you and I will never share a real wedding day,
But we’ve had sunny days, Mondays, the worst days, day trips down south.
I still hang up your mother’s Christmas ornament, you still wear my father’s socks.
You’ve eaten at my dinner table, I’ve slept on your patio couch, so
I think, just maybe, “married” has happened to us.

Either way, on any sort of day,

Ask me if I love you.
If I take you, in sickness and in health.

I (already) do.

About the Author

Madeleine Magnant is a young writer from South Burlington, Vermont, who attends James Madison University. Feel free to keep up with her on Instagram at @thats.maddiem.tm.