if i marry, my maid of honour shall be dressed as some sort of noir mermaid, ragged, sad. i want a tired, doll-like flower girl with paper wings, or perhaps soft feathers. the little boy in the pinstripe suit with the sad, preened hair will bear the ring on some type of plum-coloured cushion. blood plum, in fact. & now that i have mentioned blood, blood will be taken. i see syringes, i see donating a lot of blood so that we are dizzy, but keeping some of it in those soft plastic sachets for ourselves. perhaps i will walk down the aisle with a drip attached to my arm. this was inspired by the song disco hospital, of course. i will wear mary janes.

there'll be no vows or promises, in fact it will be unsure of how long our love affair will last at all. i don't like the prospect of "forever" to be contrived. it must remain natural, gorgeous. unplanned. there will always lie the possibility that the wedding night will also be our goodbye night. but thats okay. and thats pure.

i won't change my last name to suit my husband, but my first name. there'll be hardly anybody i know there & a bunch of people i don't. i'll carry around gilded invitations for weeks in my purse & hand them out to strange-looking strangers in the streets. i will give them a name there & then regardless of what they were born as, & that is how i will know them forever.

i'll be very quiet, just like air. i hope its a windy day though, almost about to storm, a low forbidding sky. it'll be in church ruins; everyone will have umbrellas. maybe black, witchy poo, gothic-looking ones. it'll probably seem more like a funeral than anything. la vie est belle, my friends, life is beautiful.

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