The Perfect BrideA Poem by P. T. CorwinFrankenstein's monster looking for his brideFor months and months I’ve searched for one As hideous as me. Now here you stand. Your white-flesh fingers, Dead and new-born, brush The stitches by my brow, To send the sparks again That gave me life. Your voice a lamb that learns to stand: “I am like you.” “Yes. Hideous And undeserving of all love.”© 2017 P. T. CorwinReviews
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Added on July 13, 2017Last Updated on July 13, 2017 Author
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