I felt his kiss. I felt his touch.
I felt the blood hot against my skin.
And still my eyes stayed shut,
beneath a century of dust.
Roses pressed against my skin,
their thorns summoning blood.
Below me, the palace stirred,
woken by that kiss.
Above me, the crows cried out,
woken by the blood.
Oh, I am not immune to princes. They
filled my dreams when I was young,
through a century of sleep. And yet—
I pressed against the hungry roses,
placed bloody fingers against my lips,
and wondered—wondered—if this prince,
this charming, rose-scratched, dusty prince—
had any sisters who might—just might—
share his taste for roses.
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Other works by Mari Ness have appeared in Reactor, Clarkesworld, Uncanny, Apex, Lightspeed, Nightmare, Baffling, Nature Futures, Haven Spec and right here at Kaleidotrope, and have been shortlisted for the Hugo, Nebula, and Canopus Awards. Mari lives in central Florida, and has been spotted talking to live oak trees from time to time. For more, visit marikness.wordpress.com, or @mariness.bsky.social. | |