(God I only hope
It's as simple as this.)
If
You are married
Like everyone else is married.
In a hall
With plastic chairs
And rather unpleasantly harsh lights
And a shitty DJ.
And all your friends show up
In the 'accepted' attire
Of three pieces and dresses with cream
And cheap nail polish they slapped on an hour earlier
And mismatched plastic earrings.
And your vows
Are so damn standard
Even God stops listening.
You
Will have a marriage
Like everyone else's marriage.
Predictable and unexciting.
You
Will have kids, probably no more than three
And you
Will waste your years with work
And plain wine glasses in the evening.
If
I get married
Like no one else is married.
On a mountain.
In the rain.
Cliffside, sheets of bitter grey, the wind
Reminding us
That everything moves
And the earth is breathing.
Covert invitations sent out a year ahead of time
And bouquets of wildgrass and thyme.
And nobody wears shoes.
Violins.
Border of autumn,
Sea crashing far below.
You wanna sit?
There's wet grass.
Canopy.
All colored green
And lilac, wolves
Have walked the aisle long before us.
Damn, imagine that,
And not some Google-researched vow,
But motherfucking poetry.
Not only will God cry for me,
My God will hold a sleeve so my skirt don't sail me out to sea.
Nah, pearls aren't really anyone's thing.
They just pretend to like 'em.
I'll be dripping in more jewels than the sky,
Ones you never even knew could be sewn into a collar or a hem,
Colors you don't have the names for.
Edge of the forest, edge of the mountain, and edge of the shore.
Edge of two lives.
We'll wander out so far, lost in each other's eyes.
When we come back, it won't be to
Work and mediocre wine,
But to terrariums
And museums
And pondering space
And undiscovered fields of yellow flowers
To bring our cameras,
Fucking adventure,
Man.
Some motherfucking adventure.
Believing in neverland again,
Because we sailed there on our wedding day.
Second star to the right in the pouring rain,
We touched it.
I only hope it's as simple as this.
