her tower is a cave
hand dug within the black earth
stalactites kiss stalagmites
giving birth to prison bars
stone shackles holding her fast.
she plays poker with a dragon
bluffing her way through
the cards and the game
wagering years of entrapment
with a deck of jokers
knowing her prince
isn't fighting
isn't coming for her
the broken, the practical,
the mother or friend,
the good but never good enough
princes climb towers
lifting themselves up,
they don't descend to caves
of yellow mud, stony walls,
and salty tears
so she'll fight the dragon,
fight him,
and never win.
No comments:
Post a Comment