Snow White

Hot as Hate

Black as coal and red as blood

We think we know the tale,
the young beauty rising
running
from the fading of the old
saved by sympathy
and succored by the world.
We’ve lost the cues
the comb, its poisoned tines
the corset laced tight to press the breath away
signs of beauty, warped by jealousy
We are left with only the apple
health and temptation inverted.
We think we know the tale
but willful blindness marks our telling
because
a car pushed into a lake
because
in a bathtub, one by one
because
we do not wish to remember
that at the start
there was no stepmother involved.

March 5, 2009

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