The queen would not have needed
a mirror, if the king had reflected
her beauty:
with a warm smile in the mornings,
showing her she was more a light
to him than the rising of the sun
with his lustful, lidded eyes at night
his fingers whispering adoration
across her skin.
Who needs a mirror with eyes
like that—eyes that make you trust
your own bones, that know your form
is beautiful because it can dance.
She would not have sought
the jagged edges, the distorted image
the silvery lies.
One wonders what she saw in his gaze
to make her turn away,
turn to reflection.
One cannot blame her,
for every woman should have one
being to call her fairest
unwaveringly, honestly
and without reservation
in any light.
Lynne Sargent is a writer, aerialist, and philosophy Ph.D currently studying at the University of Waterloo. You can find a complete list of her works at scribbledshadows.wordpress.com, or at venues such as Strange Horizons, Truancy, and Augur Magazine. If you want to find out more, reach out to her on Twitter @SamLynneS.
