Читать книгу Everything We Always Knew Was True - James Galvin - Страница 10

The Newlywed Acrobats

—after Chagall

Even though he is in church, the groom’s long yellow hair lilts in a

slight breeze from the sacristy.

He sports gold-sequined tights and

slippers.

The bride is decked out in a gold bikini.

Her breasts are

two miracles.

Her smile is, well, blinding.

He flips the wedding ring

high into the air like a florin.

She spears it (did you guess?) on her

ring finger.

The priest juggles chalices as they kiss.

The crowd

roars joyously as she cartwheels down the aisle.

The groom does

back-handsprings and sticks a double flip at the door.

On the steps,

an avalanche of confetti.

Clowns are shot from cannons to the

right and to the left.

On golden ropes the couple swings into the

waiting limo, which looks like a gold coffin being sawed in two and

appears to split in half as it disappears.

There happens to be a

trampoline in front of the hotel.

They spring each other higher and

higher and scarily higher until he vaults into a fourth-floor window

and she follows like a comet’s tail.

The bridal suite is golden with

smoke and mirrors everywhere.

A trapeze over the bed lolls back

and forth.

So many options for the finale!

Too many!

A lifetime of

diversion!

They look deeply into each other’s eyes, his bleary, hers

fierce with determination.

She says, “You’re not gonna believe this

part.”