Slipping Bluebeard

Bluebeard (http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/bluebeard/index.html) was brought to my mind today.  In the versions I heard first the wife was told to carry an egg with her at all times, and it is that she drops in a puddle of blood, which stain then tells Bluebeard she’d visited the forbidden room.  That egg’s always puzzled me, so-I went exploring…

“Slipping”

Then the egg slipped; I stood in dread.

How dare it fall to bob covered in red?

Now that orb’s stain is spreading to me

and the red in this room is all that I see.

 

The room swam, a large frame for my egg.

Wanting my hand out; it told me to beg.

But I won’t reach, won’t dip hands in dye.

All that’ll redden is my darting mind’s eye.

 

It’s red-rimmed gaze takes it all in my head.

The slipped-egg’s nest is a room of the dead.

All that lives lies ‘neath a bloody shell,

pulsing to burst these four corners of hell.

 

Nothing must hatch, not my egg or my heart.

Stay safe inside, keep my breast in one part.

My body needs blood more than I need to think.

So what if it marks it where the life drinks?

 

If the egg rusts, it’s still better enclosed.

My crimson-strung self would like my heart froze.

Everything locked down without a key,

To make me turn and re-torture me.

 

If all but the blood is quiet and still

it’s just prettier red when there’s a new kill.

And I can sleep with the world in my head

In dreams about all the new things that are dead.

 

My precious egg can sleep fears with me

as I toss and turn on things that won’t be.

Then if it slips, my heart may turn white

And my egg let me slip my self hate out of sight.

 

Then the egg slips, as I lie dreaming

it gently changes from dull to gleaming.

Lighting up horrors, mistakes, and regrets,

And waking me up, like one who forgets.

 

My heart beats fast as I get out of bed,

disentangling sheets of silky, dark red.

Slowly, I step from my oval-round room

to face my life: that mysterious groom.

 

My limbs hang raw from my thought-troubled shell,

Places Unseen may show but don’t tell.

But this cracked surface is easy to flip

if I carry a smile so I, please, will not slip!

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