Snow White the Scientist
Skin white like sodium chloride-
she will analyse you to dust,
till the sucking sound
of a coffin’s lid shut
has faded. She came out of the glass
she wanted to know how it worked.
The citric acid of an apple
still in her mouth,
the glorious chemical burst.
She’s been blocking thoughts for years
and now with the delicate nose of a syringe,
they drip, painfully slow, to
a test tube’s questing sides.
Becca Audra Smith
Rebecca Audra Smith has just finished a Masters in Creative Writing: Poetry. Her poems have featured in Loose Muse, Cadaverine, Now Then Manchester. Her recent project is a series of poems pretending to be Marilyn Monroe.