In the midst of the town, an inventor,

Old and frail, but still, reluctantly, alive;

Inventions unlike others – nearly human.

One in particular, a cute white doll,

Resembling his long lost wife,

Wipes stains noisily everyday, 

Reminding him of the story

That haunts all but him:


Jaehyun. Strong, but relentless.

Again and again, this king would pester the inventor

To make him the perfect wife.

One day, a woman shooed him away

But the king returned – now with the image of perfection.


Long, dark hair and eyes to match,

Perfect for any man to eye as she passed,

She wouldn’t pass much longer.


“Give up your wife, or make me one by tonight.”

The inventor now worked for hours

For Jaehyun’s sake,

To no avail.

The king came back at dusk, taking the woman with him.


Forced into bright pink hanbok

Paired with gold silk shoes,

The bride stood in wait.

Consummation approached with the night,

But darkness is better left with the unknown.


By morning, the bright red dress,

Laid on top of an unmoving king.

One shoe in place of his royalty.

Bride missing.


Year past, shack in the woods

Held doll twins – 

One covered in blood, one as a messenger – 

Fire on the death anniversary.


The inventor never married,

Not even once,

For his wife was his invention,

Programmed only for him.

He had to burn one,

And lives, forever,

With Jaehyun’s mindless,

Now-hidden bride,

Wearing one gold shoe

And another made of skin.


~JRM {20190520}