Corpse Bridal

It was a sunny Sunday afternoon. The plight was first sight. His hearts true delight. Long sunny days turned into darkest dismal nights. The first crack in their Egg was her superficial greed. Shouting and complaining, cracking the sacred. Complaining over simple drives. Creating rift and divide. The best shots possible where not possible enough. She was cracking. Slipping into her self made perfection of previous relations that could be only stacked on his volumes of adoration and simplifications . Her self stylization and revelations of the past, all surmounting the present, making such an easy hike only a mountain climb. Her self styling greed always present, always analyzing. Like a child picking at its feast at a buffet. So much food and choices in one meal, but the child is not hungry. Lost in its fullness. She sifts thru the current, lost in her minds tide. Lost among men. Found only to herself. Portraits by the thousand, but not hungry, there must be something better to eat.
To her friends she complains there is not one man worthy of her rottenness. Not one man worth staying for. So many have bought and purchased. So many have obtained nothing but empty pockets. One man has found his way. On that Sunny Sunday afternoon. Soon that diamond was discarded. The buffet was overwhelming, manipulative was the child's accusation of the banquet feast. All the simply rich food seemed poisoned. While playing with her food she quickly found so many complaints. Cracking the Egg became easy. Her gown was now bought. Her wedding was wishfully achieved. Dressed in her finest. Dressed for her relationships death. He was now engaged to a newly born corpse bride.