Beauty and the Beast: By Amber Koneval

We’re all told when we’re little girls

That if a man loves us

He’ll change

 

Like the man who hides his cigarettes

and cleans his clothes real good

soaked in stress and Tide

so that she’s not afraid of his breath

He changed

 

Like the drunkard with a bottle

Hidden in the septic tank

so that he can smile

Holding her with the drink seeping

through his pores

He changed

 

Like the free spirit

monogamous at last

glued to the computer screen

sweating and laboring over splayed strangers

He changed

 

And when they don’t

they’re Beasts.

There once was a Prince

Who loved the mirror more than his mother

Probably was a blonde

Who wanted to get married

And have babies just as handsome as he

But he refused to help an ugly old lady

Bent, with warts and a ratted cloak

And she cursed him

 

Turning into a beautiful sorceress

Like an Aldo model in a Greek dress

And his hair grew out of his head and down his back

Turning black as his selfish heart

And his fingers became claws, and his ears horns

He was a Beast

Who could marry a sap like that?

 

But there was a Beauty, so beautiful her name was

Belle

as in ‘of the ball

And her father tried to pick the Beast’s roses

The only pretty things that he had left

And the father, scared to shit

Gave up his Beauty to save himself

Cowardly sacrificing his virgin daughter to

bestiality

 

But she loved the Beast

even as she left to care for her sick, selfish father

and broken his monstrous heart to death

Even with his hair and his lice

and his unclean paws

 

And she kissed his crinkled, animals lips

Because he took care of her, so nice

and

he Changed

 

Back to the golden haired prince

with the mirrors and the castles

And they were wed

And the father forgiven

And the mirrors smashed

 

Except for one mirror

In the Prince’s bedroom

where he stares so long that he swears he can see

The claws beneath his fingernails.

 

He changed.

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