Another fairy story


The small toes calcined first. Black as burned twigs
they cracked and crackled. Sweat poured down her face
and then steamed off, with salt tracks as its trace.
And then her eyes swelled, burst, like rotten figs.

Her daughter watched. Her heart as cold as ice
skin white as snow. Round her the little men
capered in glee. The prince kissed her again.
No mercy. There would be no dying twice.

Destroy your rival’s beauty, then you win.
The apple poison did not gray black hair
burn skin or lips. Just left her lying there
asleep in glass forever. Murdered kin

damned both the women deep. The demon glass
laughed in its empty room at beauty’s farce.


About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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