Handpicked handmaiden, raven hair, a charm
collected, jaunt in country air. Conveyed
to castle, swift, by dainty, dirty arm,
for sister, gift; he makes her mirror maid.
A countess cloistered, brother bold, a lust
rebuffed for years maturates manifold.
No hunger for another face, she must
be kismet: this twin to take her place.
Bow shape of lips, gestures, by rote — behaves, becomes the thing he wants the most.
A sibling studied fingertips to throat,
around the castle, doppelgänger ghost.
A proxy polished, childhood promise chased,
embraced: to never love another face.
Photo Credit: alextroshenkov Flickr via Compfight cc
Kristin Garth
Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola, Florida. She is a knee sock aficionado and a sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked the pages of Luna Luna, Occulum, Anti-Heroin Chic, Ghost City Review, Drunk Monkeys, TERSE, Journal and many other publications. Her chapbook Pink Plastic House is available through maverickduckpress.com