from the blazing pages...

because you listened
catlike
at the tip of the stair,
the phonograph coughed its secrets
and you

grew up thinking
that pretty women needed saved,
that apples were poisoned and
knights rode into sunsets without getting burned.

i.
but the first one you held
taught you that
magic mirrors never tell them they're beautiful,
and you saw the spindle-scratches on her arms
(because princes have roaming hearts, and they
stay a little while and then
slip away.)

ii.
and the one you married wouldn't touch you
because
"i'm a golden egg, not a tiny pea,"

and you said it didn't matter
but she broke the beanstalk and sent you

tumbling down.

iii.
and your daughter told you
"straw is straw, and
no matter how i spin it
i will still wear rags."

and when she kicked as you sized her for a
slipper,

you thought that maybe
some are beyond your help.

vi.
then your son became a knight with sunset burns,
and you realized that death does not wear a cloak
because he is beautiful and sometimes
people go willingly,

and when a crone offered you an apple,
you couldn't think of any reason

to turn her away.