Cinderella

Seasons of castles, cathedrasl, fortresses

go by.

Pride with his transparent wings buzzes outside the window.

What if Cinderella was as awful as her step-sisters?

 

The mortar between the bricks says,

 Don’t let the facts get in the way of a good story.

Beneath the cathedral floor princely hands wring desperately

to extricate themselves from a promise.