you wanted Rapunzel   waiting in a tower
braids of hair like ropes
stairs that only you could climb

my hair would never grow long enough

you wanted a lady    sleeping in a garden
no rings on her fingers
never been kissed

other princes had made it through my forest

so you tried revisionist tale-telling
and turned them into dwarves —
you wanted happy ever after

I forgot to water the roses round the door

I piled up mattresses     to cushion you
but you tossed and turned
bruised by that one small nub

the part of me that is no fairy tale

you brought me a crystal slipper
on a heart-shaped pillow
pretty    but slightly passé

my foot was too big to fit into it

you might have been the one true prince
but on mature consideration
I declined   with thanks   the honour

of cutting off my toe