White Warm Petals

The wedding is to take place in my father's church.
The view is from the back balcony, looking on the whole sanctuary.
The floor is not visible, being covered in a thick blanket of white roses and chrysanthemums, orchids, albino palm leaves. The flowers emanate a kind of heat that makes them glow and appear to flicker.
{Reminiscent of watching a blizzard through a wall of glass, wishing there were a way to make snow warm.}
I know that outside it is cold, so this white heat is a kind of miracle.
I'm to be married, but the church is empty of people besides myself.
My dress is one I've been saving for years. Antique heavy silk, pearled.
There is a whole satisfaction with this moment.

At some point later, I am slowly waking. Memories of the wedding party coming to me even as I see that the whole wedding party has passed out on the ballroom floor. Yes, I married Him (thank god it's Him and not Him), yes my mom and dad were actually speaking to one another, yes, the walls were covered with champagne. Yes, we had sneaked off to get silk-less in the water. I want everyone to remain asleep so that I can keep drinking in the moment.

A girl wakes up loudly next to me; young bride, can't find her bra. She complains that her wedding was freezing. I chuckle silently. ha ha. I won!