Dress-Up
by Kirsten Magas
It is not like Halloween; it is
a daily occurrence. For your
birthday, you are given a
trunk of tulle skirts, itchy
polyester sleeves,
feather boas,
and flimsy
princess
crowns.
At the bottom, like buried treasure,
there is a pair of pink, plastic
shoes — one-inch high — with ribbon
tied into a perfect
bow on the front and
strapless back. Of
course, you
put them
on.
For the rest of the party, you strut
around, like the princess you are,
like the one you want to be,
the sound is addictive
click-clack, click-clack
like mom in
her work
suit.
How could you know one would catch on a
stair? Sending you in somersaults
descending in the pitch dark
head over tiny feet
until you hard stop
at the bottom
face first with
broken heels
on the
floor.
a daily occurrence. For your
birthday, you are given a
trunk of tulle skirts, itchy
polyester sleeves,
feather boas,
and flimsy
princess
crowns.
At the bottom, like buried treasure,
there is a pair of pink, plastic
shoes — one-inch high — with ribbon
tied into a perfect
bow on the front and
strapless back. Of
course, you
put them
on.
For the rest of the party, you strut
around, like the princess you are,
like the one you want to be,
the sound is addictive
click-clack, click-clack
like mom in
her work
suit.
How could you know one would catch on a
stair? Sending you in somersaults
descending in the pitch dark
head over tiny feet
until you hard stop
at the bottom
face first with
broken heels
on the
floor.
Kirsten Magas is a poet and editor based in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where she lives with her fiancé and two rabbits. Her work has been featured in Beyond Words literary magazine.