When I was young,
they taught me I was beautiful
again, again, again
as many times as raindrops
so I'd believe I had been, always:
But I hadn't been.
But I wasn't, always.
They kneaded me like sweet new dough,
they sculpted me like stone--
they forced beauty into my crevices,
pressed it in-between my teeth
laced it into my corset--
they shoved it deep inside my body
again, again, again
until my toes curled
until my body shook
until screams tore from my lips,
drenching me in perfumed sweat:
A Queen has no recourse.
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