Hitched

Newly crowned in lace, joy rapturing her face into something almost feral: too wide, too honest, too much. The smile is where it begins, splitting the vow open, a sickness blooming the moment she said I do; language infecting the flesh. What should be sacred curdles into excess; devotion becomes possession. Love, once named, demands ownership. To belong is to be consumed, and to claim another is to be weak. Her ecstasy is real, undeniable, asking the question: must love be caged by monogamy? The answer hangs heavy and unresolved, yes, and the grief lives right behind the smile, gnawing. This is a print of a dot art drawing and is on heavy, glossy 68 lb paper.