Black Marie Antoinette

I was a queen, and you took away my crown; a wife, and you killed my husband;
a mother, and you deprived me of my children. My blood alone remains:
take it, but do not make me suffer long.
– Marie Antoinette

when you come for me
if I’m making dinner,
let me put the knives
gently to the side—
and turn off the pots
to write my note,
to whomever claims
my abandoned home,
that supper is ready
and to continue
without me.

when you come for me,
give me time to don
my wedding dress
braid peonies into my hair;
I will leave my vows
on the dressing table
so that my love letters
find a courier
to carry them
forward, a river,
to eternity.

when you come for me,
I will hum
my babies’ lullaby—
a hopeful tune
that filled our house
under cover of dark,
and inside the light
we sang the stars
until each beat
bore witness
and whispered innocence.

when you come for me,
give me time
to finish my prayers—
Hail, my Holy Queen,
for us banished children
to you I cried
for: mercy, this life
Heaven, at last;
take my head
please receive me

Angelique Zobitz is a Director of Marketing at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana.  She received her BA in Creative Writing, specialization in Poetry and Narrative Nonfiction from the University of Illinois at Chicago in 2004. She lives with her husband Mike, a daughter Ella who has imminent plans to rule the world, and a broken down former shelter dog aptly named Rusty. Angelique has recently been published or has poems forthcoming in Geeky Press’ Hoosier Lit anthology and Junto Magazine.

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