Mirror, Mirror

frances koziar

on the wall, don’t

show me the fairest of them all

because she probably hates

her body too, twists

in the night with the churning

of her mind, longs

for the abusive love in your glassy

eyes and the dreams concealed

behind them. Mirror


Mirror on the wall, I pity

the fairest, I feel her fear

in that moment when she knows

her image

can’t save her, the moment

she realizes that pretty objects

make better trophies, that beauty

attracts the scavengers like fresh

blood. Reflections


are always backward, Mirror, and so too

are your promises. Through you, men

learn to destroy what they love

in pursuit of its reflection, learn

to own and conquer, to possess

and look good; they forget

what they were looking for

in the first place. Women


bare their hearts to you, reveal

their naked bodies, accept

the challenge of turning your unforgiving no’s

into yesses even if it drives

them mad first, call you

to be their lawyer in a trial

against themselves, a trial they don’t remember

you started. Mirror Mirror


on the wall, instead of the fairest, please

show me how to save her



Frances Koziar has publications in 25+ literary magazines, and is seeking an agent for a diverse NA/YA fantasy novel. One of her poems shortlisted for the 2019 Molotov Cocktail Shadow Award Contest, and her poetry has appeared in Acta Victoriana, Snapdragon, and Shot Glass Journal. She is a young retired (disabled) academic, a social justice advocate, and a writer lacking 4+ kinds of privilege. She lives in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. Author website: https://franceskoziar.wixsite.com/author