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.