From a poem i wrote in a dream:

He and I dancing down the aisle:
With Him in my arms, and me, in His, the party already is,
or
has begun
and never ends;
Now, i’m just dancing down the wedding line, as a clown does with and for a King.
This aisle is endless,
with crowds of sufferers on all sides. He and I
both absolutely still in one another, with and in, that specific pain and glory,
and knowing our own stories clearly.
Like groomed disco balls sweating, in shimmer, or in a type of mist of some sort, reflecting ourselves outwards, in the sheerness of the shimmer of suffering…still, dancing with one another! I can’t stop dancing with Him, regardless…
In this dance down the aisle that never ends…
what other party would i possibly want to be in!