Professional Cinderella: Disney World Employee Profile

She was ever kneeling, hunched

in a rodent pose, ever wrapped,

a ragkerchief about her face, forever

made up with soot

and the red blush of want

in her cheeks.

So she lit it up.

Police said she set

a burning book beneath

the curtains, fled and fell,

hit her head, woke

in a bath of flame.

Then her eyes were set

behind a mask of skin

like cracked clay

furrowed with burlap twine,

a ridged and rutted moon,

aloof from a lonely planet.

And that's how she came to us.

So we gave her the dress,

the glass slippers, the large head

with blonde tresses

and cup saucer eyes, sopping

with happy endings.

And now in the space between

the mask and the masquerade,

she floats in minuet moments,

chromatic waltz dreams, forever

on the cusp of the new day.