Chocolate cakes and strawberry jam
live in the many refrigerators of the snow prince.
He's decked his halls with boughs of icicles,
woven spirals glinting crystalline in the setting sun.
Skinned animals spread on the floor,
but my lips are still blue as the roses littering
my wake. The dog purrs in my lap,
the cat wags her tail and begs for a piece
of the gluten-free darkness in my hand.
Peaches roll on the floor, quickly smashed
and sweet beneath frosty boots.
My liege sits beside me with a glass of plum wine.
I curl beside him and hands braid my hair
into sheets of diamonds.
It's okay to feed them, he says,
Chocolate has never been so poisonous as you.
A golden tub fills and I am warm again,
melting into steaming music,
disembodied fingers sliding softly
into my flaccid womb
where now only stalactites grow.
Ellen Webre is a senior Screenwriting major at Chapman University, and is minoring with Anthropology and Asian Studies. She is a dream-wrought poetess who has featured at the Ugly Mug, Coffee Cartel, and Mosaic poetry readings. Bitterzoet magazine has published a mini chapbook collection of her work called Bound By Red String. When not reading magical realism, she can be found trying new recipes or photographing strangers.