The wedding would justify all the
Actions against her and her body,
Everything that ensued, she would
Be given one day of hope and illusions,
Then he’d take over, her, take her over,
To the reality of what he had in mind
All along.
He disembodied her, slowly, she forgot
The sound of her own voice.
In his presence. Gradually, everywhere.
What would become of the female body?
To disembowel the language that is hers
Sets his invasion in motion.
Hollow out her mouth,
The steps underneath her tongue, the knot,
The use of her teeth, the edges, sharp, muscles
To force everything down, the gulp, swallowed,
Disappeared, undigested, holding on,
The thinned acidic cords, vocals, a minefield,
A trap, one false sound, penetration, projection,
Not as bad as it doesn’t sound, like nothing,
Containing everything, contaminated, spread
By force, by imagination, misused, destructive,
The fires of his mind and ashes landing on her skin,
The tissue that is her, skinned, burned, bathed in
The taste of his spit, his mouth wide open,
Her lips tightly shut around his, inside, wax,
Sealed, hot, stamp, his territory, a letter unsent,
The emblem of his love, captured, collected, a body
On a wall, a cross, upside down, fixed, deterred, unearthed,
Blood on his hands, her knees blue, the heart pumping
Blue, the room, an urn, the phantasmagorical, hands
Amputated in the middle of a prayer unspoken.
Croque-Melpomene 