κάλλος τε καὶ ὕπνος-- Beauty and Sleep

So beautiful. The most beautiful. No one else more beautiful. It was a lie.
The night he pierces me with his spindle, I fall asleep. The wall of thorns grows up again around me. I sleepwalk through this new life, through all the duties of a good Akhaian wife. I weave, I spin, I press the olives into oil, I submit to my husband, and I sleep through it all. The household around me may as well be frozen in time for all that I interact with it.