The great warrior Achilles

Would have me fora bride

Just before the wrath of our great families

I know this is a lie.

Golden God boy, shining with the sun

It doesn’t make sense

That I’m the one you picked.

What kind of trick is this?

Perfect man, go sharpen your knife.

I have no greater desire

Than to be your wife.

Smooth steel piercing flesh and bone

Thank the gods for this bit:

You won’t hear me moan.

Please admit this won’t be graceful

There is nothing more impure

Virgin blood will spill

And you’ll have settled your own score

You can try, sweet man, to save me

From this cursed world of men

But as a bright young woman I can tell you

It will happen time and time again

Get your dagger ready

I promise I’ll close my eyes

Or if they remain open

I’ll be looking at the skies

Just know one thing for certain

Right before we start

Of all these terrible people

You’re the one who has my heart.