Rapunzel Explains the Tower

She said "to keep you safe" and I understood.

She'd had enough of men's wild hands

in the rampion and parsley, one more garden

besieged. Here, only women spoke.

And no mirrors — nothing to make me question

the softness of my skin, the redolent body.

But he came, as they all do,

through the window, all dash,

claiming to love my voice.

One day she found him clinging

to my hair and sent him packing.

She noticed the new swell of my girl's waist.

She knew the danger of 16–year–olds

with golden curls where I was going.

So she came at me with scissors

and turned me out into the world. It was blinding.

In the desert, I heard her words,

that no prince would be my rescue.

I wrap my baby in silk, smash the palace mirrors.

Jeannine Hall Gailey

[Vicki] What Do Women Want? - Kim Addonizio

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.



[Vicki]