Inspired by Kate Crackernuts

Shame sits hot and sticky beneath her skin
Knowing the truth of her bloodline
Knowing her own mother—not stepmother—
Believed she wanted this
Wanted her dearest, her other half
To wear a sheep’s head

In another world, Kate and Ann
Might have been lovers
They grew up together, curled up in the same bed
Tender, innocent flesh pressed close enough
To keep warm when the covers were threadbare

Two sheep in a flock
Shielding each other from the wolves
Who ruled over their tiny kingdom

In this world, Ann lost her beauty, her hope
Hid her wooly head behind layer upon layer
Like a supplicant
While Kate
Let shame boil into anger, hot enough to leap
From the witch’s pot

Anger that her mother had done this to them
Had sickened her sister
Had left Kate to toil tirelessly
To make up for the wrongs in her bloodline

Anger made Kate sit up all night
Beside the prince’s bedside

Anger made her follow the prince
Inside the fairy mound

Anger made her vision clear as glass
So that she saw not the fairies’ gossamer wings
Not their long lithe limbs
But their cruel hearts
Like her mother’s cruel heart

Anger turned to fury
As Kate stole the fairy bird
Sacrificed it
Soaked its golden feathers in ruby blood
A jeweled offering

Fed it like her own tender, innocent flesh
To the prince she settled for
Though her heart would always belong to
Her sister

In soul if not
In blood