Sleeping beauty,
held in a slumber by
easy starvation,
easier to sleep when she pushes
the plate away,
calms her mind, smooths
her hair
vanishes on her own bed,
made a tower out of
a disorder
filled with thorns

no one but herself to climb the stairs

Snow white, made paler
by her own face in the mirror,
a taunting voice
'who's the fairest, who's the fairest!"
runs into the woods to hide
herself in a maze of shame,
in a thicket
of solitude

09/07/2003

Posted on 09/07/2003
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens