Marry me, he said, through his rotten teeth, bad breath, and then
Marry me instead of that strapping young goatherd, but when
I was in his bed, and my father had sold me
I knew I hadn’t any choice, hushed my voice, did what any girl would do and
When I’m beheaded at least I was wedded
And when I am buried at least I was married
I’ll hide my behavior with wine as my savior
But, oh, what beautiful things I’ll wear
What beautiful dresses and hair
I’m lucky to share his bed
Especially since I’ll soon be dead
Marry me, he said, god, he’s ugly, but fortune is ours
Running in the gardens enjoying...
continue reading...