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