By Alison Stone

I. Sisters


It’s always the younger one who yearns.

Who offers bike riding, her best jokes,


and learns that love is hungering

outside a locked door.


Memories of shared laughter

freeze in her heart.


Rejection makes her reckless.

She chases storms, takes


rides from strangers,

believes any boy


with a slick opening line.

Ends up numb beside a dying fire,


dumb to the futility of fantasy,

the cad behind the kiss.



II. Elsa in Translation


Let go now

Let go and forget


I have this power

Release hand

Let there be snow

I will rise at dawn

I’ll put it out

It wants to fly

Freed, released

To let go

It happened

I come to life

I’m letting everything go

I’m putting an end

Break free

Let it go as I am

I’m free

This is enough

And I forget

Lock of the icy heart

Forget everything

It’s left behind

It ends now

Doesn’t matter

Don’t mind it

It has already passed

Step ahead

Set it free

Let it go

Let it happen

Let it be

Let it snow


III. Finally a Fairy Tale


for all the gifted girls,

forced to hide

because our power threatens.

Guilty, hidden, cold, so lonely

we’ll try anything—

conceal, don’t feel—the soul-

dulling mantra that promises

a place at the dance.


Let us take off our gloves.

Conjure stairs,

then climb them.

Let our secrets sculpt

themselves from ice as weak

men cower and each flagrant note

of Now they know soars

from out open throats.


Let us be cold

as we need to be.

Suss the pretty prince

for what he is.

Whip up palaces and skating rinks.

When our sisters stumble,

let us take their hands

and guide them into glide.

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