veils on heads

there were veils on heads

and flowers in their hands

they looked so pretty

when they were being taken away

my sister wore the white

my brother wore the black

they told them where to sit

they told them not to look back

i watched from the doorway

with my hands in my sleeves

wondering why a family

needs so many things to leave

sometimes your family

shouldn't be your family

sometimes the people who raise you

don't know how to let you be

they called it a blessing

they called it a home

they called it forever

before they even got to know

and one day the veils came off

and nobody was smiling

they walked out through the same door

but this time

they were choosing

my sister found a garden

my brother found the sea

they found somebody who asked them

what they wanted to be

and I think that is funny

in a horrible little way

how strangers can love you

better than the ones who made your name

sometimes your family

shouldn't be your family

sometimes blood is only blood

and love is something different

there are still veils on heads

in photographs upstairs

but nobody wears them now

nobody puts them there

and when I look at them

I don't think about weddings

I think about doors

and how beautiful it is

when somebody finally opens one