Ever, After

Nobody asked her 
if she wanted to marry the prince. 

It was just assumed. She in such dam
-sel’d distress, after all. He in shining 

armor. She couldn’t even see his face,
tell if his eyes were kind. His kisses 

came without woo or warning. He slayed 
the dragon she had befriended, and ended

the spell she might have learned to love. 
(She can’t remember the last time she had 

a nap that good.) 
She should have just 
stayed in the woods, really, with the birds 

and the breeze. The trees always had her 
back, and a knack for holding her just 

right. The castle’s cold, and silent. She 
longs for the violence of storms, perhaps 

a pirate. From the stone throne where she 
sits, this (glass) slippered song just doesn’t fit.  

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