In the corner next to the underpaid electricity where no one wants to sit and reheat leftovers admitting each bite taste better than the original, hardly ready to walk down an isle of silver ware but if I were I 'd pick the Waterford to match during the reception I'll wear my glass as glasses the shallow smiles will ask my dress to snake as I crave the framed grace, the crisscrossed napkins and two bites of the others peanut butter truffle cheesecake, I'll hardly have to worry about a thing, easy on the musty air my lungs won't stop flexing this microphone everyone saw got unplugged an hour ago and as the last couple to enter will be the first to leave I'll eat a strawberry to taste the sweetness of the moment later I'll put my guard down long enough to side slip a glance to the guest who walked around laces flapping, shoulder tapping, fingers mapping with eyes stating the impossibility of believing any of it