Lace and flowers
Trimmed to perfection
Songs and whispers fill the atmosphere
Sweat and rivulets
restrained by the painter
Sometimes I wonder
why we'd waited for so long
For our bosoms to sag
before the bells
For the smiles to weaken
before the vows
When virgins are no more
And their songs are despair
When the eyes darken
And our milky teeth turns sour
The suitors embrace padded bosoms
And touch lax skin
That the smell shall be fresh and the smile shall be shy
That the bride shall be in the dawn of youth