Little Miss Wedding-Photographer-Of-Herself

Lyrics

The light in here is almost perfect.

June seventeenth. Three seventeen in the afternoon.
The organ is doing its thing.
Sunlight through the stained glass, a little hazy.
Good for the skin tone.
The bride’s lace is a nice texture in the corner of the frame.
Her vows are a good ambient sound bed.
I hold the phone just high enough.
Chin down. Eyes up.
A single, perfect, reverent tear.
Take one.
Take two.

And I got the reaction shot.
The bride is in the background, just right.
A tasteful blur of white and emotion.
This is the moment I’ll remember.
This is the proof that I was here, feeling it all.
For the grid.

The first dance. A nice, slow ballad.
The little ring light I brought clips on just so.
Everyone’s watching them, which is perfect.
No one’s watching me.
I film my face, tilted, a little sad, a little hopeful.
Delete.
Again.
A little more wistful.
This one goes in the ‘Graceful Empathy’ album.

And I got the reaction shot.
The groom is in the background, just right.
A tasteful blur of black and devotion.
This is the moment I’ll remember.
This is the proof that I was here, feeling it all.
For the grid.

In the bathroom, under the harsh light, I check the takes.
Swipe, swipe. Delete.
The compact mirror shows me a face.
My phone shows me a better one.
Did I even see her dress?
I have twelve pictures of it behind my head.
Does it count if you don’t post it?
Does it count if you do?

“So much love in this room.”
Hashtag blessed.
Hashtag wedding day.
Hashtag best friends.
Post.
The bride is a backdrop.
The groom is a backdrop.
I was here.