She danced with
wolves
dressed in
scarlet lace
as hidden parts
of disgraceful
unfulfilled needs
creates lustful
desire to please
the men who
fell at her knees
she talked to
spiders
as they wove
wicked webs
in a secret place
collecting hearts
and
body parts
spun delicately
devouring men
fallen from grace
she ran though
wild flowers
creating fantasies
a colourful dream
stories of the fool
the hero, the joker
not forgetting
the king and queen
she wore
a sliver slipper
as the glass ones
were all broken
her tiny feet would
bleed blood red
as her unmet needs
were painful felt
her words
remained unspoken
her romantic heart
held a love
for him
this man disguised
as a king
so much glory
his crown
egotistically
worn with
false pride
she notice a ring
upon his brow
the weight
of his falsehood
cut deeply into
his frown
a voice inside him
silently cried
I need you
to liberate
me from
this unwanted
majesty
this is not
who I choose to be
mistress
can you free me
her wicked heart
softened as
she understood
his pain
for a life time
or more
she has worn
this hurt
this shame
not fitting into
constrictions
constructions
of the norm
though their
deepened understanding
compassion was
beautifully born
gracefully she
offered him
her hand
as they waltzed
into the
darkest night
the evening star
made a secret
appearance
to offer them
some light
happy-ever-afters
are not born
in myths
or stories of
false hopeful bliss
no, they are created
with intimacy
allowing another
to meet
our vulnerability
once they can touch
our open wounds
with love so real
then we will know
true amour
the ability to
help each other
heal.
MM c 2015
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