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 men, women, and flowers
Then I break a glass and I slit my own innermost thigh
So that I can pretend that I'm menstru...well, unavailable
My life is arranged but this union's deranged
So I'll fuck who I choose for I've nothing to lose
And when master's displeased I'll be down on my knees again

But whose children are they?
Why, mine and my lover's!
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