Sweetmeat

The smell of sweetmeat
carries a wisp of wind
and a cluster of
swoon swept
strawberry leaves,
to gather underneath
a butternut tree, bringing upon
a  waterlike dream
After the snow
the countess wakes
from her beauty sleep
swallowing slices of
buttermilk cream,
capturing winter glow in
her silver star emollient
smothering layers
of clouds and steam
across her salt scotched skin
Her arteries plump, hungry for
shimmer and gold,
saturated veins carrying impure blood
back to her heart
The reflection in the mirror
speaks rage and rumple
countless hours of
bloodless sleep
For a single stolen moment
of flickering light, she rises
only to fall back into her corpse
melting herself, silver and sugar
beneath the glittering tree, where
the Queen's sweetmeat
gathers hope
to feed her dreamlike sleep

Inspired by Shawna's Flipside Flotsam list
Shared at dVerse Poets Open Link Night