The Last Christmas

Your face is pink, shiny with booze and fury,
your hand held fisted by your side,
you have dressed yourself as a bride,
a Christmas present, you have
packaged yourself as a Christmas gift,
and locked your wrapping down, you
have gone on with the show.
His mother joins in, presenting
your daughter with a dolly bride,
all big wide eyes, and whiteness,
a good bride, and look,
there’s a stand so she’ll stay
where she’s put. He tells you
to kneel for the composition.
You kneel, move your lips into
the required smile. Make
an early resolution.

Cara L McKee MA, BA grew up in Ilkley, Yorkshire, but now lives in Largs on the West Coast of Scotland with her young family. She works in a local village library, which she’s been desperate to get back into. Cara’s poetry has been widely published in places like Dodging The Rain, Gutter, Ink, Sweat & Tears, and Brittle Star Magazine.