after Susan Thomas
Truth is, my life was no fairytale,
That afternoon, I lay, a smiling corpse
Under a glass sky, a rotten apple
Lodged in my throat like a black lump
Of cancer, your sloppy kiss dying on my lips.
Did you really believe a kiss could cure
The poison galloping through my veins,
As you stood there, with your ugly white horse,
The voices of dwarfs buzzing like flies
In the apple-scented air?
I wish you could see me now,
How I take to the sky, a witch
Without a broom, an empty black silhouette
With stars for teeth, spooking deer
Into briar patches, swallowing the shadows of trees.
I wish I could slip into my beautiful white flesh,
Just once, my pretty white feet stuffed into black slippers,
My poisoned-breath fogging up the smiling mirror.
If only you could see the light pouring from my skin.
If only you could hear the songs my bones sing.