As it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be,
I’m the wedding attendee
with a plus none.
As a kid, I was frightened
by stained-glass violence.
Grisly images arranged
with such pretty shards.
In what should have been a joyous homily,
a priest reminds who is eligible for salvation.
There is rat poison in the lobby
behind a sanctity of life display.
My faith once buried
doesn’t rise again during vows.
The other single souls cry
under the guise of happy tears.
No room for champagne.
Trapped and shellacked,
Spanx tighter than
Virginia Ham netting.
Receptions filled with maybes
end alongside nicotine-stained walls
where a paper placard implores hotel guests
Do not wipe makeup on towels.
Pray for us singles now and at the hour of our cocktails.
About the author:
“Justine Defever is an Associate Professor of English based in Michigan. She has worked in higher education for over a decade and holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Arcadia University. Her poetry has appeared in North American Review, Great Lakes Review, The Metropolitan Review, and various anthologies.”
Part of our Winter 2026 Issue. New stories, poems, and essays now through February 28, 2026.
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Tangled Locks Journal 📓 is pis of a yypyyyoe 
I enjoyed this poem. I married late and can relate.
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Love this style ❤
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