Quelle: poetry p f
Velcro
She had three final fittings, double-checked menus, pored over
table plans. He chose silver cufflinks, ordered champagne,
practised his speech in the mirror. They spoke of nothing else;
their dreams full of happy-ever-afters. They barely slept.
The big day arrived, the sun shone and the sky was spotless.
Everything went to plan, they even managed a few tight smiles.
Afterwards they stood at the altar, about to kiss. It was now or never.
Silently the Velcro worked loose, slowly the dress slipped from her
powdered shoulders to fall in graceful folds around her feet.