Bring out a straight jacket, binding to another,
tied down with wedding fever, temperatures at
one thousand years of slavery. Falling
so quickly like rose petals off of their dying
host, walking into their shower, covered
in the death of hundreds.
Trying to impress all those who said no,  
as well as those who lied and said yes.

Bring out the pills to get through, swallowing
pieces of soul never to resurface. Lying white
gowns, defacing an idea of purity, which
has long ago disappeared.
Using a corkscrew to force open two hearts,
drinking until it becomes almost natural to smile.

Pressing twisted bodies together, fitting together
like pieces of separate puzzles.

When did it happen, the atrocity of expected union.
When did it become a cultural expectation to sell
body, heart, soul and mind?