Dancing Princesses

This world is too smooth, revered for its featurlessness. I prefer the broken glass and rose thorns I find in your icy paradise. Whether we are born again or take our first steps in time, the night sky never ceases to be dark and the sun never ceased to burn out eyes. Give heed to the ones who danced away their soles, for their rose garden is not so different from yours. Twelve sisters, it is said, though it may have been threescore, or only six, dedicated themselves to a secret in a house of hidden lives. Only one man, golden haired in the garden (green thumbed as well) found a faerie, or a flower, to grant a wish to see what could be so grand that those who’d lived all their lives in grandeur would sacrifice their sleep forevermore. Gold, silver, diamond, three branches for a love with a heart of ice, and one sliver taking hold of her soul. For one who has seen, only one fate: to freeze and dance, follow into the world of ice and darkness, but three branches melted the splinter and the heart, and spilled the blood red wine. Twelve (or thirty, or six) hearts thawed, and a wedding: more tattered soles, payment for those souls mended, and vows spoken in a world that requires not midnight replica: chain me to your heart if you will, I’ll not stray far regardless, for light burns my eyes outside of your garden of glass and thorns.obviously this is a retelling of the old story (which happens to be my favorite)...it also has the same problem as Silk and Blood: my computer crashed and this is a reconstruction. Written April 2nd, 2002 © on Apr 02 2002 11:05 AM PST   0 • 8