Found this floating around in my computer and thought it was worth posting.
Reviews are food for the soul~
after
i
Stories should be held
accountable
for the truth of the
human heart—
the cold wrench of desire,
the swift burn of
longing;
there is no justice
in the end of
a child's fairy tale—
It's not fair
that a story should
end and a life be
sown tight
by the march of three
words
at the end of a page.
ii
I see Snow at the
table with clouds
in her eyes and a
gnawing lament for
leaving the Seven
behind.
I feel she sighs
in the bulging blind night
as she longs for
forests
and song
again.
And that when Ella
left her cinders,
The bone-white death-pale
pearls robbed her
of breath—
the silks were frigid
water on her skin.
(She still sits in
fire, just to
feel
the warmth.)
iii
Tell me do you
believe in regret?
In,
perhaps,
forgiveness but
never forget?
iv
Don't you think sometimes
Red might tear through the
woods with her blood-banner
twisting behind her,
if only for the
thud and shiver
of her heart?
(And she does not
say it,
but between the
shadows
she searches for
the yellow eyes.)
v
I like to believe
the seventh brother
remembered the swans
and their wretched
trumpeting
arias
and he missed them.
