You awoke one morning with violets growing on your pale skin. Satin blue and viridian were their complements, and no one asked how possible it was
for one green pea, (not even brown or hardened with age) to penetrate twenty mattresses then twenty feather beds and still leave marks so shaped
like the palm of a man's hand.
~
What has happened, princess? They say you passed the queen's test, with falling colors
stripped nude before retiring, were inspected for purity and pallor by him.
~
Tell me in your whisper low in your leaf lullaby voice: did he enter your chamber like a fox in that dark,
roll you from that bed to the floor many times? I am only interested that no one asked
why you were so unhappy that morning: where all concerned ate pigeons at the table,
grease dripping from lips pink birds bleeding, then thrown back to flames.
I imagine you sat waiting between diners passing platters;
and no one listened for the terror in the poise of your voice.
~
You came to his castle in poverty; perhaps he knew that your father was ruined in the potato famine, or that your mother died
of plague or that you were trapped like a hatchling on a lizards tongue
by his mother's bold games with impossible tests. No, this would not be
the first time this mother protected this son
with public euphemisms, a bruise pea, a lie. She knew
your skin was so tender it would always be: available for darkening unquestioned when maimed;
yes, it would become her favorite son's favorite alibi forever.
About the Author
Heather Fowler received her M.A. in English and Creative Writing from Hollins University in May of 1997 and currently resides in her hometown of San Diego, CA. Her stories have appeared or been selected for publication in the following journals: Mississippi Review online (October 2007); The See You Next Tuesday Anthology (2006), Frigg: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry (Winter 2006), the muse apprentice guild (October 2002), artisan, a journal of craft (September 2002), Literary PotPourri (May 2002), Exquisite Corpse (May, 2001), The Barcelona Review (May, 2001), Quercus Review (May, 2001), Penumbra (May 2001), B & A New Fiction (Jan. 2001), Barbaric Yawp (Dec. 2000), Zoetrope All-Story Extra (June 2001, October and December 1999), Mindkites (December 1999, and June 2000).
My main focus in art is color, design and composition. I have a true passion for color as the art subject itself - how colors fit together, how they communicate with each other within the design, how certain colors combined with one another evoke a certain feeling - this is paramount in my work. I am a social worker, artist and poet living in Austin, TX. Read More...