Young Couple At Mass

I want this one day.


At Mass the just-married couple
hold hands in the pew. New to the parish,
they sit in front of an elderly pair,
soapy scent of a 40-year marriage,
and behind a family whose eight-year-old
leans under the seats to stare
at the many ankles and shoes.

They feel noticeable, awkward—
familiar amid the statue
of the Virgin and stations of the cross,
yet objects of the faithful eyes
around them. It’s true. At the base
of her neck and just below the short sleeves
of her blouse, her skin
blooms tan and healthy. It’s too much.
The mother of four three pews back
and across the aisle senses
something indecent in that sun-blonde hair
and the way their shoulders touch.

When they stand for Communion,
the young man places his hand
on the small of his wife’s back
to usher her into the aisle.
Square shoulders and crewcut,
he walks in line just inches behind her.
Despite the choir, she hears him breathing.

Albert Garcia