.
When
Rapunzel was remanded for those many weeks
and
months and years to live up in the highest reaches
of
that tower, what mattered wasn’t that the prince learned
.
how
to climb her hair up to her head as if it were a ladder –
no,
her grievances about this cruelty were screamed out
very
loud across the Alps; documented evidence concurs
.
it
shattered eardrums. She’d shed no tears from altitude,
had
no fear of heights. Neither had she much desire to reside
below.
What interested Rapunzel was enclosure.
Her much
.
renowned
composure she accounted for by one delight
to
which indentured life exposed her that she never knew
was
possible until she lived those lovely solo hours in
.
a
tower, with nobody to glower at her or to glower at.
She
didn’t even miss her cat. What she learned was how
she
could engender grace in semi-open chambers that
.
existed
solely to provide a single seat. With increasing art
and
frequency, she learned to make a place for secrecy.
Her
neat designs for comfortable fancy huts that shut away
.
while
showcasing her exultation of the Ideal Chair are very
rare,
and coveted world-wide. Mostly she’d be glad that
we’ll
forget her doltish husband, but will recollect the bride.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment