by Aisha Ali

Becky Becks, *Sunrise,* digital photograph, 2024. Courtesy of Unsplash.

Mother-In-Law

Aisha Ali | AUG 2024 | Issue 36

The sky was electric
That night we walked all the way to the shore
The wind blew ferociously off the lake
The rain came down in waves so dense
It felt like we were already underwater

Tucked behind the cathedral
We looked into each other’s eyes adoringly
As we hid in the arched golden doorway
The solace we found in that moment
Inimitable to this day
A love so pure it was almost holy
You’d think we’d taken shelter in the Kaaba itself

We went back there once more
Two years later
At the break of dawn
You prayed like you were in Mecca
And in the name of God
Asked me to marry you

Yes, Yes
A thousand times, yes
So you cuffed my finger
With a diamond unlike any other

And in that moment
I felt an undoing in myself
Of the years of pain twisting inside
As if you were the remedy
I had so desperately sought
All along

We started the first day of the rest of our lives
As a shy sun finally made its appearance
And kissed our skin good morning
The cool breeze off the lake danced cheerfully around us
A storybook romance
Penned by the Lord himself

But the very next day
As we descended into the dark and damp underground
Where our joyful sun couldn’t find us
Our love endured its first assault
And as you painted a picture of our potential demise
You gestured to the glimmering symbol of your commitment
The one I hadn’t yet taken off
And said
That until our day came
It was merely borrowed

Time stopped
My vision blurred
My face was wet with tears
She told me I had to tell you that
You said
Meekly

I hadn’t dreamt of losing you
Nor had I planned to dwell
On the unspoken accord
That was put in place at sunrise
Just the day prior

It was as if she was watching the clock
Allowing us one day of unbridled optimism
And grew impatient
Unable to control her need
To be the first one
To put a knife in me
And twist it

I saw her in my mind’s eye
Cackling at the thought
Of being the one to shoot me down
As I soared through the sky
On my very first flight

How could I have known then
That this was only the beginning
Of the torment ahead
That the jewels in which I’d be adorned
Were actually shackles

How could I have known then
That my happiness would cause her pain
That my misery would bring her joy
That no one had waited longer for this than her
And that it was her new calling in life

So I asked my mother
How people can sleep
After tearing two lovers apart
She laughed
With a scoff that came from deep within her wounded belly
And said

Just fine

Aisha Ali is a physician whose poetry has appeared in Quail Bell Magazine.