By: Jalecia Reid

In that silk white dress
Skin unmarred 
A veil across my face 
I’m the epitome of pure 
What more could he want?
My bones scrubbed clean of any essence of another 
Clipped off and thrown away, my dreams they no longer take up space
They needed to leave to make room for his 
His wants, his needs, they became mine
Reconstructed to fit the idea of him 
I’m his shadow 
His beggar 
His worker 
I am his wife