the moment before the rest of his life,
a shy smile playing on his face,
the bridegroom
With a chin, cheekbones that could chisel
he dazzles even in black and white
His turban rests gently on his head
A feather rises jauntily from it
He is gazing slightly to the right
as an uncle adjusts his garland,
about to marry the woman
with whom he will live 50 years,
without whom he is now bereft
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