The Wedding, as described by the lovely Egyptian Lady

Sparsamt omarbetad till dikt(?) av den som skriver detta, berättat av den Egyptiska kvinnan

I was supposed to leave with my grandmother and her driver
The driver grew, as working men often do, impatient
I kept him waiting for as long as I could but when we came back out again no car was in sight
I tried to call with the only result being the driver stating the obvious, that he had grown impatient and left
My grandmother, with the authority she had earned, quickly grabbed the phone and concludes that we were late, which we were not
She left without us and then came back again to collect us
Just like marriages, weddings can't be separated from arguments

Waltzing across in heels through crowds
Catching glimpses of strangers I'm supposed to know
Huddled over food, newborns
Somehow chilly so my pores stayed timid
The only ones with visible transparent pearls of sweat were the groom and bride
After all, they were in the center of it all
And just as the cold seems to seep into corners, heat seems desperate to be in the center

Gold accented:
Beads
Flowers
Chiffon

With legs moving to blitzing sound and hands carrying other hands or trays of food only the mouth was truly free
But soon it became occupied with cigarettes, food.

Ferocious as love is, it was fitting that the two things on my mind were pain and hunger
Pain from the marbled knife of a shoe that had gotten a hold of my feet

With the amount of autotune the singing man's voice was draped in, it could've been its own Arabic dialect

Having been away from everyone for some time I was afraid of having forgotten once familiar faces
Thankfully the older couple in front of me were only colleagues of the groom's father
What a relief