You open yourself like a fridge
And out of you hatches a bride
In a music box chiming with extras
And a lipsticked mother-in-law
A mother-in-law plays a role
A bride is made of a mission
A groom can be made of a mission
Or can simply play a role
A bride is a white hopeful heart
A volatile unstable element
A bride’s job is to marry the world whole
And a wife will settle as sediment
A sturdy bride can be reused
A freak bride can be used five times
A fake bride can be recognized
A fake bride is not at all gaseous
Your bride smokes a cigarette
She giggles and kisses with tongue
The cigarette smoke seeps through
The ruptures too big for a kiss
You close yourself like a fridge
And in to die goes your used bride
Against her early belief
This bride never married no one
Anna Krushelnitskaya 