by alexandra lilley

a poetic retelling of the children’s book, Dear As Salt

Daughter of Salt

I only told you the truth Papa.

My sisters filled your ears with lies
but fine, despise me instead.
Listen to the ones who’ve
led you to believe your veins run rich
with the red of wine.

No one sees the stain
you leave on the table cloth.

You are made of salt
like the rest of us.

Your other daughters deceive
but you believe I am the untrustworthy one
though the only sin stacked against me
is the truth that spilled from my lips.

You ask, “How much do you love me?”

I say: “To me, you are as dear as salt.”

But Papa, that’s not the answer
you sought.

You think the king is made
of rubies and gold
and my confirmation of your consternation
was too sharp a piece of glass
off the mirror I held up.

Now I must run and hide,
safe in the candlestick
provided by Mother.

I hope next time Cook
makes your favourite soup
she forgets
a pinch of salt.

Then you’d chew and stew,
stew and chew
wondering all the while
what’s missing.