Caught In the Reign
CAUGHT IN THE REIGN
“am i a real princess?” she articulates.
the painting, on her canvas nails, pains her.
firm fountain of toenails are just fine.
shrugs, “who knows why!?”
her lashes, feel the flecks, of mascara.
her skin itches at the thought of clothes.
alas...she must wear them, out.
intensity of whispers wearying
and the heavy stomp of sating teeth, dissatisfying.
“am i a real princess?” she states while dry,
and wet one night wanders and wonders
drenched, she knocks, upon a prince’s castle.
the snobbish butler looks her down and up.
she’s not his cup of tea, nor a buttercup.
“m’am, look whose come to sup! shall i take her up,
and dry her off, or send her off at your command?”
simply hospitable, the queen takes in pooches and
potential princesses, even ones wet to the touch.
she preens and pampers them and even pretends
to like them. “oh, aren’t you the most beautiful sight,
i’ve ever seen!” her tongue lies and sings, rings and
wraps the prize until she clings to silver sly sabotage,
orders her fed and sends her to solitary bedroom quarters,
until the morrow, when she shall reveal a slippery snake
or a real live star to her son, the prince, not likely!
locked in Rapunzel’s tower, bought it braids and all.
now branded to sleep, per chance to toss and turn,
a bed, a serendipitous sight, twenty mattresses,
colors of the rainbow, and other hues she’d never
seen before. spoiled, she said to herself, “i’d rather
roll around on the floor, but,” she sighed, “i’d best
climb high,” she shielded her hand over eye, to see
the sky. her arms were strong, having slung arrows
in fairy flight for most of her childhood life. she bested
the ladder as well, feet like hind’s, though she began
to breathe hard as the air up there was mountainous.
she fastened her eyes shut, dreamt dreams all night -
fighting dragons, torrents, whirlpools and fleeing forest
animals of the dark. she woke up beaten, battered and
bruised. The lovely french quilt shorn to shreds with sweat.
the butler gasped at the sight, and rushed forward to find
his mistress. “SHE IS a real princess, oh queen!”
she clapped her hands with furious delight, made immediate
plans. sent handmaids to freshen her up for many days and
nights. from then on she slept in the brightest part of the castle,
with the softest loft, the leverage of life, of gold paid, a prince’s spouse.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Princess and the Pea (loosely based on my life ;)
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017
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