We Were Married.


We were married, just for one night.
We slow danced to tunes by Barry White.
We were passed out by the morning light.
We hardly remembered the previous twilight.

But nobody believed that we had wed.
He was shooting up and off his meds.
We claimed the gym floor as our bed.
The snowy roads as clear as our heads.

'Cause he had some kids and a wife.
I had a boyfriend and a different life.
We weren't really each other's type.
But we were closer in age, and closer in height.

We kissed with eyes open at almost sundown.
Right after we said the marriage vows.
And in the shadows, I've often found,
that the actual time is closer to now.

And when he'd look at me, I'd start to sweat.
So many times we had already met.
We'll never know each other like that again.
That one night only that we were wed.