Snow White, I Love Thee Poem by Ethan Kingsley

Did you think that I found you by chance, Maiden?
Did you believe I was drawn to your crystal casket,
Like a hummingbird to its nectar,
By the allure of ruby lips, the gaze of azure eyes?

The mirror told your mother,
At forty,
What she already knew,
Not in her heart, but in her spleen.

'Take her into the forest, ' she commanded, 'for her heartbeat plays
The music of my mortality, and must be stopped.'

Still the mirror told her true.
She was the fading flower —
A fresh blossom opened in you.

Ragged she came, and gnarled and stooped,
Hoping by this guise to fool fate, to quell the crone within.

Her apple froze you fast —
a talisman to keep time from touching her.
Alas, to no avail.
You shall have your mother's love.

Indeed, you have it now, even as you usurp her place.
Did you think that I found you by chance, Maiden?

You are beautiful, sublime,
Yet not so lovely
As our daughter will be:
Your mother's daughter's child —
Her immortality.