Fair price: The girl bride

Fair price: The girl bride


when your mother wakes you on the morning of your death

whispering prayers of a fruitful union,

Pray with her

that your first blood may block the ears of her god.


When the ululating women,

with lines of suffering and submission on their faces dress you like fine salad

with silk and colours

Laying fine linen over your pubescent breasts

and aesthetic lines on your hands,

Show them your flat chest and your narrow hips;

a lily can only bloom under the sun.


Tell the sister who embraces you that a flower withers when it is pulled from the ground.

wipe her eyes and whisper in her ears:



Your father will come to take you to the man who has paid his price

a sheep

Abraham took his own son.

”Baba, see my mates on the south road that leads to my school”

”How little did you take for me?”

”Baba, will he love me better than you?”


And when you look into the eyes of your suitor

harden your face and tell him, little one,

tell him

that you are not an item to be bought and sold.

You are not his to be branded as a fifth

and he will not put his seed in you.

You must swear not to bear his daughters;

you will kill his sons.

You will defy him with madness and you will spit in his eyes.

You are not an item to be bought or sold.






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