red and green.

her aunt told her to marry a boy
with a soft mouth, hard men
hit women, sharpen their edges
on your curves, she told her
don’t marry a boy
who doesn’t smile right,
doesn’t laugh kindly,
don’t marry a liar,
don’t marry a fighter.

marry a man who sings,
she told her, who prays,
who talks to you and
doesn’t look away,
don’t marry a man
with something to hide

don’t marry a boy
to become a bride

she married a soldier
with a mouth hard from war,
that tasted like bullets,
had hands like dull edges,
that never cut,
who laughed like a lion
and re-learned how to love
who danced through the streets
the night their country was freed,
and married her in red and green.