Pricked

In a reverse 

of the fairy tale

I have already 

pricked my own finger 

twice this morning.

These 

domestic chores

grow dangerous 

the dishwashing 

vacuuming 

meal-making.

Perhaps I would 

like 

to lie down and sleep

for a hundred years

to be free to wander

through my dreams

without duty or

covenant to 

anyone.

I am

the dark fairy 

in my own story

I keep finding 

more spindles to enchant 

and growing brambles

higher and higher

to encircle the castle.