You are dead to me.
You are cursed.
You are marked as the lowest of the low
the unfit
those now deemed
untouchable.

You are claimed.
You are known.
You have been called out,
warned, identified as unable to be appreciated at any point in the future.

I know you for what you are:
unclean
untidy
undeserving of this gift
bestowed upon you
that can just as easily be rescinded
if you choose not to intend to attend this most excellent of events.

If you decide to ignore
my sweet daughter’s sweeter invitation
then so shall it be taken away from you.
That and all hope you might have of peace
between our families.

You are endangered.
You are forsaken.
You are the enemy
if you choose not to be a guest
at my daughter’s upcoming tea party.

Choose your fate
at your own peril
and
choose wisely.
Reserve your place
at my daughter’s table now
or, at least,
no later than Thursday.