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The Fairest of Them All. A Poem.


The apple was plump, ripe, bursting with juicy flesh

like the curves of my body that I hide with frilly layered gowns.

Sweetness and untainted goodness rolls, grows and solidifies underneath

with a cold red membrane outside. A wishing apple, she tells me.

So kind she is to sacrifice her desperate need of magic and instead bestow to me.

“I won’t charge you, my child” she sugary old dear says,

“I’ll give you the first one for free.”

With one bite, my wildest fantasies will materialise before me,

like colourful hallucinations. My Prince Charming on a galloping steed

will carry me away; chasing the dusky horizon until we touch the sun.

I gaze to the Heavens to search for Eve, contemplating her wishes.

Other apples exist but this one – so rich, fruity and forbidden;

it will taste more syrupy and honeyed than them all.

What’s one little bite?

The ugly but lovely old biddy gives a coy smile,

as I place my ruby lips on the apple’s skin.

Down to the core I bite, hard with pearly shrill teeth.

I was right; spicy, fragrant, mushy and treacly,

it fills my mouth with yellow. But as I chew, the sour sweetness fades

and morphs to ash on my tongue. A bitter but zesty powdery ash

that fascinates me. I want more.

Time seem to blur together into one long dream-like day.

I sniff some more of the Snow White, the chalky sherbet candycain.

I sprinkle it like fairy dust and brush it on my teeth for whitening.

First, I am plain old Doc; boring and forgettable. But

with my powdered sweets, I become Happy, Bashful and

Dopey. But the gleeful high soon descends and I fall into

Sneezy, Grumpy and Sleepy. I sleep for days

in my glass coffin. It’s so small and cramped in here.

I’m waiting for Prince Charming’s kiss to resurrect me;

to be my saviour. In fairy-tale land, we can’t save ourselves.

I’m still eating that rotten old apple.

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