Shaped with creamy yellow broom,
delicate pink meadowsweet,
and soiled hands she was forced not to live
but to comply with the duties of wife
to a man who never desired her.
Shaped by filthy hands and
the sex organs of plants,
she sat in the dim kitchen watching
skin form over the stew
that had taken hours to make, as he
wined and dined with supple flesh
while she watched embers crumble.
It seemed only right when Goronwy came
with praises and promises of love,
to smile coyly and play along,
it was only fair.
Never to see or feel the warmth
and tickle of a beam of sun
against satin skin, was a price.
But to be rid of the qualms
that come with being human
was more than worth it.