When she waltzes into the room

they see an angel in an ivory dress

instead of the soot that has marked her hands

instead of cinders clouding her face


They never saw her cry out in rage

over her mother’s death

the bitter wound stirring her

as she wondered how her

father could turn a blind eye

to the daughter he once loved

bloody lashings scar her back

for uncompleted chores

she washed the floors

vowing to survive

to overcome


As she danced on the ballroom floor

wondrous light filled the room

sweet perfumes

delightful steps

a charming prince

instead of blood, tears, and ashes


So kind, so soft

He is her desire

He sees a dazzling gown

a untainted face

an illusion

as she dances with him, enthralled


The clock strikes

she flees

so no one can see her

before the vision fades

before she is again Cinderella