As old women turn goblets of

rainwater into bitter wine with their

stare, I push past feasts.

Tables covered with chicken and turkey, the

scents of glazed hams suffocate.

Blindly I move with eyes closed,

stumbling on stone steps.

My center leads as I try to quiet stomach and mind.

There is almost darkness, just tiny

glints of candlelight enter between the cracks of my eyelids, undeterred

by eyelashes.

My gown is itchy- crinkling with each step.

Made out of cheap fabric, it gives the illusion of royalty without

the silks.

My skin asks for velvet- something soft.

When I reach my room, past all these distractions; I will slip out

of this garment... walk naked to the balcony.

With a body covered white, moonlight dripping from my fingers; I will

jump into the river below- icy is its kiss.