sleeping beauty

The day
You left
I bought
Myself
Pink bedclothes:
A young girl's
Dream,
Innocent
And free
Of any stains.

I am not
Sleeping Beauty.
A hundred years
Of expectant rest
Is wasted time.

Too old
To believe
In princes,
I already killed
Most dragons,
Cut through
My own brambles,
Freed my
Obscure splendour
And kissed myself
Alive.

I am my own castle:
My courtyard open
To the brave and
Virtuous
Only.

In sound sleep
I now enjoy
My new-found
Purity ,
Safe from
Passion,
Pain
And poisoned kisses.