Drunken Lines at a Wedding

Emily Paige Wilson 



The church is a church made of dirt

and not religion. It does not make me feel


guilty for my body, except when this sudden

summer storm flashes behind blue-stained glass.


I twirl and twirl, but am never as light

on my feet as the lightning. How is it


as I allow myself my most dangerous

movements on the dance floor, the bartender


has never been more bored? The band sings

Tell me something good. The bartender


says, “Amen, it’s been a hard week. Amen.”

I bury my face in the flowers to hear


something louder than the music. Who

ruined these weeds? I pull baby’s breath


and bobby pins from my hair. I adore

the brides. I wonder if Eli and I will


get married. I think maybe and maybe

that is the best kind of unknown hope.


I don’t believe in magic, but I love

drinking after toasts.





Emily Paige Wilson’s debut chapbook I’ll Build Us a Home is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. Her poetry has been nominated for Best New Poets, Best of the Net, and three Pushcart Prizes. Her work can be found in The Adroit JournalHayden’s Ferry ReviewPANK, and Thrush, among others. She lives in Wilmington, NC, where she received her MFA from UNCW, and works as an English adjunct.