Rumpelstiltskinned

A yellow body
            scares more than crows. So

spell me gold, you. Fingers mine
            me out. Knuckle-deep til I can shout
& the cornfield bows before me,
            all ears. I can’t apologize

for smiling back at the scythe
            that laughed through the acre
of my grandmothers.
            One stroke: maiden,

name. ‘Cause like a rhyme, I win
            how I end. Freely spelled
on the page. Husk at my feet
            like a pleated skirt. Its purpose to fall

off. Listen, you. Make me a fortune.
            Teeth down my spine
popping vertebrae. Let me catch the light
            &, for once, throw it back

til the feathers burst
            into applause.

Avalon Felice Lee is a writer. She received the Richardson Poetry Prize as well as nominations for a Pushcart Prize and Best Small Fictions 2022. Her words are published in The Boiler, Brain Mill Press, Kissing Dynamite, and elsewhere. Find her on Instagram at @avalonfelicelee.