We have defiled her
She screams silently while we claim we have refined her

She grew up inside roses,
a single dress with footsteps of needle sets.
Her thighs now smothered by ropes of skirts, each embedding it's mark, these are the scars she must bear.
Her parents are skeletons, pendulous in coat hangers, dressed in old leathers with jaws fractured.

have we refined her as we claim?
Silently she screams
We have defiled her!