poem13 Aug 2012 06:18 pm

She was an apple thief
a thief of summer’s fruit
it was just natural to poison what she fed on
after all, who
would pity the rat that ate of poisoned bait?

And she was quite another sort of vermin
her seven tails dug seven trails
behind her, no matter where she went
and the voice was infinitely fairer
than the evil maw it came from

in the snowy woods of ebony
her blood-red lips lay hidden
and her lair was a grave of apple cores
that’s where she had taken the fruit
of poison, the two-faced apple

it is also where she lay asleep in ice
as if it were a bed of crystal glass
who would have thought that all this apple bite
could leave her merely sleeping?
The prince saw her sleep in this deep

deep forest and to her lips
he lost his mind
he kissed her and kissed the poison from her lips,
drank it from her throat and collected
the stray drops of venom from her teeth

Gone mad from kissing poison
it is no wonder
that he had people dance themselves to ashes
in fire shoes of glowing iron
–how his eyes gleamed when they danced!

It is no wonder also
that he would keep her apple sweet breath
beneath his tongue, his pillow
and in the fabric of his sheets and that his
shrouds were made of apple peels
that the beast had woven tightly, like a noose


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