Dark, dark, swirl the waters
in the black Cauldron.
She looks into its smooth surface
and sees only the reflection of imperfection.
No, she cries, madly swirling the waters
breathing her poisonous breath
into the words,
‘you are not good enough’,
‘you need to be more, better, taller, thinner, kinder,
sadder, happier, angrier, slower, faster, whatever,
you need to be perfect,
you need to be more like Her’
Slowly she crawls away, never looking back,
ignorant of Her Divine reflection in the
blackness of the dark waters of the Cauldron