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Monday, December 26, 2011

Wedding Night

Wedding Night
September 25, 1999

by Angela C. Orlando

He comes to me, naked in his need.
It is our wedding night.
I must perform my wifely duty.
But, oh god, he is so fat.

He stands above me, 300 pounds of lust and desire.
Rolling hills of flesh hang off his body.
It looks like bags of hairy dough.
Oh god, he wants me.

He enters me and the dance begins.
Grinding, shoving, pushing, thrusting...
He is relentless.
I am the drug he uses in pursuit of ecstasy.
Oh god, will it ever stop?

I moan in pain and he thinks he's pleasing me.
Then his climax comes and he falls upon me--
Goliath crashing to the ground.
But the ground is me.
Oh god, if this is love, why does it hurt so much?

My ribs break.
I gasp for breath.
He is crushing the life out of me.
I think I may die.
My grave stone will read, "Beloved wife-- Killed by sex with a
fat man."

Revised August, 2011

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