I deliberately mixed up references rather than targeting any particular community. The woman is the one who pays the price of being married in many different ways, even in happy marriages they are subject to cultural restrictions.
You are a vision of loveliness
he said with fatherly pride.
But inside,
she sighed.
She looked in the mirror
she could see what he meant
but still inside,
it didn’t feel real.
He held on tight
as he propelled her down the aisle
and passed her
into her husband’s grasp
as she thought,
Why was it now
that he said such a thing?
Was it the thought of
that shiny golden ring?
Was his vision coloured with relief
now she was no longer
part of his brief?
Was her life never to be her own?
Perhaps if she chopped
off all her hair
and was as bald as a coot
men wouldn’t buy her,
own her with rings of gold
or honour bound
to use her, abuse her
brutalise and confuse her.
But now she was wed
what could she do?
Locked in a castle
of obedience and duty
no longer admired for her beauty.
She looked at the sweaty face
now at her side
with its lines and wrinkles,
with open mouth moist and stinking
of whisky, smoke
and decay.
He pulled her to his bedroom
in haste, and inside
she felt only outrage.
Is this what a face that
could launch a thousand ships means?
Then I’d rather not be a vision
was her final decision.
Before she grasped the letter opener
from the top of his desk
and thrust it through her heart
with no regret.
And as her sight faded
she saw his face
filled with a look of horror
outrage and hate.
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