Something old. I hope this oval-shaped crystal can be that something old, which dates the happiest times back then when we were alone. This something old symbolizes continuity,  hence this love, this happiness and the blessings will continue and transcend time.

Something new. The heart is new. Whenever something ends, people tend to quit something. Some quit having long hair or a certain hairstyle; some quit a particular habit; most quit being themselves, their old selves. Hence this heart of mine is new. This something new symbolizes luck and success, for the heart that is glowing in the air has just entered my temporary memory space.

Something borrowed. Could it be someone borrowed instead? For no matter how the clothing you wear or the things you bring changes, you would never change. Something borrowed symbolizes the presence of a special someone who will always be there, so I hope to borrow you there.

Something blue. Make the flower in my headdress blue, the carpet blue, the balloons blue. Something blue symbolizes faithfulness, purity and loyalty, and hence make the people blue. Is the paint heavy? If not, please paint the piano blue as well so the songs it plays would be blue too. I walked down the aisle in this ocean-blue gown, and you stood there in your black and white tuxedo.

It was once called flutterbly, for it flutters. Flutters by.

As I walked the path, a leaf fell onto my hand. It was a wing, not a pair, but one. A colourful one is better than a dull one, an alive one is better than a dead one, and in this case, half of a dead one is better than a whole.

There were dazzling colours, pink, yellow, purple. the colours were so real, until I caught it between my fingers. The wing turned to dust, and my fingers were powdery. Little did I know that the sparkling colours are not innate, the fine prism-shaped powders are dusted delicately such that they reflect different lights, colouring the transparent creature.

The last time I caught a yellow one was more than ten years ago. I wasn't good at it, and you helped me. It was disappointing though, that not only I dirtied my hand, the wings became grey. Therefore I should let the colourful one flutter by, perhaps one of the prisms will fall onto me, shimmering with some colours. Therefore I should crush the half wing, let it turn into dust and so the colours could be blown away in the wind. The prisms of butterfly.