Wedded To My Body Dead

I wrote this twenty years ago and I still don't have a clue what it means.

I saw a body lying in the street.
Lying like a choice cut of meat.
It was strange you see
Because it beckoned to me,
Out there in the street.
Dead at my feet.
 
Several people passed me by.
They did not stop, I wondered why.
They averted their eyes
And told themselves lies.
My eyes tried to cry
But my heart said "You'll die."
 
Others passed and laughed or stared,
But didn’t come close for nobody dared.
"It costs," I said, "to look and see,
All of you who point at me."
More and more the watchers stared
At me, the only one who cared.
 
I took a look back at the house I had left.
He still watched from the window - betrayed, bereft.
I understood then what purpose this had -
My punishment for being a witch, poison, mad.
Test me then, am I pure, am I stained?
We all know the answer - just one act remained.
 
I lay beside the body dead.
I made the ground our wedding bed.
The people tried to run and hide,
But you can’t escape the happy bride.
She lies in her dress of scarlet red,
Beside her bridegroom – the body dead.

© Morney Wilson