Thorn and Kiss
CAST
THORN: Early 30s, a queered Rapunzel
FAE: 50s, a woman who has moved between worlds, connected to the goddesses
MAEVE: 40+, warrior goddess, known for sexual prowess
SETTING
A small garden cottage
Sometimes a tower
Sometimes not a tower
Brief glimpses of a goddess temple
***
THORN
They will tell you a man took me in the tower. That a man filled my womb with his god-like power. I will tell you whether I let him in meant as little to me as choosing an ice cream flavor. As he lurched my spine against stone, I turned my head to the moon. In the garden below, she watched until I was not left. And if one of us wept, the tears were the same. What remained of that night was a craving. A child spreading tendrils across my uterus like a vine taking root. You become that needy thing. That desire to feed the being within you. And you listen like your life depends on it. Because another life depends on it. But this is never what I wanted.
(looking down at FAE in her garden) Were we not happy here together, alone? (whispers from the window) Here is where I heard you laugh for the first time. Or the millionth. It rings the same in this tower. This town. Inside the bells of belief, I listened.
FAE
(In the garden below turns her back to THORN, bends to the silver herbs in the moonlight.)
She thinks I cannot hear her. That in the tower now she is somehow punished.
THORN
She thinks I cannot hear her, telling her sad stories to the silent herbs. But they are sharp against my senses. And if sending him was not punishment, I will tear the reason from her tongue, twist her lies through threaded fingers. I will end her.
FAE
It will take all her strength. It will not be kind. She will tear at the walls until her fingers bleed. She will long for cleansing. Her desire will consume her. It will take all her strength. It will not be kind. She will blame me. It will be over soon.
THORN
I don’t remember a night when she wasn’t near. The night she chose me like a treasured rose. When she clipped my hair short, ran her fingers through the spikes, and called me Thorn. When someone names you. When someone names you. What do you gain? What do you lose? She said I would always pierce her heart that way. The beauty of the thorn and kiss.
You bite your lip in nervous habit, a tiny blossom of blood rises. I want to put my thumb there, to taste the salt and pain. In nervous habit, I want this blood to rise like a rose against your thigh. Tiny blossom against my lips. I want your bite, the wound and the salt. My thumb in the hollow of your beautiful throat. To taste your lips, a nervous habit. And sometimes, also, this pain.
FAE
Yes, and sometimes also this pain. (pulls her shawl close and moves to a bench in the darkness)
THORN
Fae. I know you hear me. Come. I will hold you until you sleep. I will rub the knots from your fingers. I will sing us somewhere else. (distressed) I did not choose him. I did not choose him.
FAE
No, beautiful girl. But I did.
THORN
(Turns through the tower out of control, flinging silks and elaborate bedding, goblets, trinkets. Rages.)
FAE
(Seems to be juggling orbs of light in the garden.)
When I found her, she was crouched there in the roses. Tattered, worn. Like a frightened kitten. So wild. She clawed my face and spat at my feet. (twirls the orbs through her fingers) They will tell you a different story. A story of a witch waiting for prey. A witch who stole a beloved eldest daughter away and locked her in a tower. I will tell you that we began as story. Two women on a bench in a garden. I lured her with lilacs and lettuces, tinctures to calm her fears and fold her close. There are ways you learn the lessons of a face, when night after night a woman turns to you in moonlight. (seems to step into an orb—orb widens like a moon surrounding her)
But when I started to forget where I ended, where she began, those were the most dangerous moments.
THORN
(Crouched against the stone wall, rocking, humming a soft lullaby.)
Shhh, she doesn’t want us now. Don’t turn inside me with your butterfly hands. If it weren’t for you, maybe she would come back. Don’t you hear her out there, talking to her spirits, calling them to her? She will not bring you herbs. She will not feed you. You are betrayal. You are demand. (splits open her finger with a shard of glass, begins to write on the tower walls)
Once upon a time, a woman walked away. From a life that felt like fire. Where all her choices were not choices. Where her siblings were the good children, the normal, the perfectly fine. (splits another finger open) Once upon a time, a woman walked away. Because she loved another woman. And the lambs they took to slaughter. She would not be taken to slaughter. And she would no longer listen to those lambs. Screaming a spring of fire and the ignorance of the ones who were supposed to protect her. Once upon a time, a woman walked away. From her mother. She never wanted a mother again.
Once upon a time, a woman found her in a garden. (splits another finger open) And that woman turned away.
Turned away. Turned away. Look at how she skulks in the shadows. Turning earth. Turning the moon to her and from us.
FAE
Yes, I hear you. And I feel how you take the blood and call me to you. I cannot come. I will not come. You will wrestle with those demons. Be they supernatural, goddess-born, self-taught, or gifted. If you sit inside your longing and breathe through the fire, what returns to you is power. I will no longer strip you of that power, my Thorn. And I can no longer stay.
I was mistaken with her. I kept her so close her heartbeat felt like my own. There is a kind of cruelty to that. Protection is a kind of cage. And she had already been so wounded. We are often misguided in our truest desires to keep each other safe. But what is safety but a need to turn fear against itself?
You will think I sent him because my love had worn thin as the shadow of my soul. She will think I sent him because my desire had faded like the once bloom of my cheek.
Have I failed her? How will I withhold the only comfort she knows?
(FAE walks into the cottage beside the tower. THORN falls asleep curled in a comforter against the tower wall. Flickers of a dream twitch at her eyes and lips. The dream plays out on the floor of the tower. THORN is sunning herself in Fae’s garden. She sees FAE watching her from the cottage, and rolls over to take a wild rose in her hands. She strips the rose of every petal and thorn. She proceeds through the entire bush, her fingers bleeding, never once losing eye contact with FAE. THORN occasionally whispers: Notice me. Ask for me. Touch me the way you would caress this stem. Tell me you are thankful. She mouths at the window: Tell me you are thankful.)
THORN
(clutches the comforter to her face as she wakes, crying)
Tell me you are thankful! (Moves along the walls, cautiously, the writing crawls under her fingers. (very Yellow Wallpaper in nature)) I wake up and wish you were here. To say, good morning beautiful girl, as I would say to you. Remember the gentle weight of my palm against your breast, bringing you back to life. The tilt and feather of your eyes brushing my cheek. The scent of you against me. Tell me. Tell me what I’ve done.
(An orb floats out in front of her, a much younger Fae is held there.)
THORN
Who are you?
FAE
I am loyal through your pain.
THORN
Who are you?
FAE
I am a creator. Look at this world we have made together. I have held you in time.
THORN
Who are you?
FAE
I was what you needed. You made me.
(to the audience) I am not certain I was ever a child. There were fragments of light trembling, the constant chants of women, and wild fires at the goddess’s feet. The goddess anointed me and kept me close. I can’t tell you that I was ever named or owned or wanted. Beloved. Maybe it was a story that pulled me here. Torn through the curtain of want and need. Was it like being born? I can’t remember.
THORN
You’re a liar! What have you done with the woman I loved? She would never leave me like this.
***
FAE and THORN arms entwined, walking toward the wall of the garden. Beside them figures begin building a tower of bricks. Not the present moment.
FAE
Of course you may stay here with me. But you will want your own space, eventually. You will not want to live with me forever.
THORN
But I will. I do.
FAE
Look, here, I found these. (Picks up a pair of roller skates. Hands them to Z. Touches her cheek.)
THORN
You don’t love me.
FAE
That’s not true. (kisses Thorn’s forehead) And you can stay as long as you like. Take these for a spin around the garden. See how you do.
THORN
(throws the skates to the ground, grabs FAE around the waste) No, I want you. Here. With me. I don’t just want to stay with you.
FAE
(Taken off guard. Begins to ramble.) Listen. My heart. You deserve someone who will always be with you. Someone who can give themselves freely to you. (Tries to pull away. THORN holds tighter to her.)
THORN
You can. You will. (Grinds against FAE. Kisses her with abandon. FAE pushes her against the wall, equally engaged in the moment.)
FAE
(Takes a breath. Hesitates. Pushes THORN gently away.) Stop now. I am not the one. (Shakes her head. THORN clenches FAE’s wrist and hair, pushes her back.)
THORN
(Reckless, demanding. Rips the sleeve of Fae’s dress.) Of course you are. You are the only one.
FAE
(FAE sighs, lets THORN continue.) I know, darling girl. I know you.
THORN
(Pushing FAE’s face into the wall, moving against her thigh, gasping.) You want to tell me you knew me in a past life? I want to tell you, I’ve lived that life for so long I don’t have the stomach for it anymore. I can feel how much you want this. (Takes a blade from her pocket and slashes her wrist.) Taste me. I want you to take my life in your mouth. (Smears her blood across FAE’s face. Shudders and cries out into FAE’s shoulder.)
***
Warm red glow. Chanting. An altar.
FAE
When the Goddess came to us, we lit the fires and split the pomegranates open. Every direction of the temple pulsing. We fed her seed after seed until her womb broke open and filled the room with newly born and ancient beings. It was our work then to escort each sweet creature to an earthly life. Or at least that is how it seemed. And when I was released for the last time, I thought I would die without her. Of woman born. And shattered. And thrown into. Of woman taken and given and rocked. Wind and wave. Yes. And when you roll up on that shore, abandoned, you know a kind of hunger and desire. Was she given to me, this Thorn? Was she made of sand and filaments of moon? Was she carved against longing and wound through the coils of my brain? Only the Goddess would be that cruel.
***
THORN
(Puts on the old worn pair of roller skates. Spins wildly around the tower. Talking to the walls.) Because really they abandon you at birth. For their ambitions. For their polished silver. Feeding you cake and marching the princes across the table. Those princes, they stumble into pies and trip over turkey legs, sized like dinosaurs. And they growl. And they grumble. Because you are busy. Being a woman without them. (Screams out through the window at the cottage below.) So why? Why?! When that is what I came to escape. Why. Send him here like that. For that. Why.
And you (looks down at her abdomen with intense hatred.) What shall I do about you?
***
FAE
Just so we’re clear, if you think she’s locked in that tower—you’re wrong. Also, that is not a tower. It is a stone cottage, much like mine. And she never lived there. Finally, if you think I have not placed baskets of food at the door or that she is devoid of sunlight or the ability to ask for care, you are mistaken.
***
FAE and THORN covered by a blanket in the garden. Thorn crawls up FAE’s body from beneath the blanket. Puts her head on FAE’s breast. Not the present.
THORN
(Breathless) Don’t stop. Look at those stars. How they spell us here.
FAE
You make me want to be young again, Thorn. The way you pull me under with your need. Your longing is so intense. Siren-heart. Mermaid-girl. But I was made from those stars. And I will not last forever.
THORN
Why must you say these things to me? I know how your body responds. Though they build that tower. I will never stay there. Not without you. (Brings Fae’s head to her breast.) Yes, there, stay there, use your teeth. I need to feel you. Now. Beauty. Please.
***
Every sconce in the room, every piece of fluted stemware, every gold-rimmed plate. Crystal beads and mirrors cracking prisms across the floor. THORN piles them all in a small glass mountain and stomps the shards until they split through her roller skates, blood running through her feet. And then she pushes harder, until every shard of glass becomes as fine as sand. And as she cups the fistfuls of glass, her eyes are the emptiest of vessels. And the world is deathly quiet.
***
Around the cottage, a wavering fog warps the world in thick violet light. The Goddess enters the garden. She is golden, draped in a cape, raven on her shoulder, spear dangling at her side.
MAEVE
Hello, Fae.
FAE
Maeve. It’s been a long time.
MAEVE
As time goes, I suppose. I hardly acknowledge something so mundane anymore. Come. (Holds her hand out to FAE.)
FAE
(Kisses MAEVE’s hand and caresses her face. Slides her tongue behind MAEVE’s ear and down her neck.) Why have you come? It’s not time yet. There’s still more time.
MAEVE
You are being foolish. She will kill the child she carries. And then she will kill herself. Can’t you smell her blood lust. It’s all over you. Her desire for you is stronger magic. You broke the rules, Fae, in making that man.
FAE
Don’t chastise me for this, Maeve. If she would’ve gone with him, her life would’ve been easier. I suppose I should be polite and ask: which husband of yours is going to slaughter this week?
MAEVE
Mmmm, he’s rather delicious. But dumb. And I don’t like to linger in the forever with a bore.
FAE
Yes, I’m sure. Why are you here, Maeve?
MAEVE
You’ve waited a long time for me to come back, haven’t you? You should know that I have watched, and you have done well here. You carry a memory, I believe. Of being one of my favorites. But there is no return once you’ve been pulled into a story, Fae. You will finish your life here. With or without Thorn is a choice you must make with her, but you won’t return with me.
FAE
Maybe. You might’ve said something sooner? Maybe?
MAEVE
You’re all the same. You serve and suffer so.
FAE
And you are unworthy of the years.
***
FAE
(having raced to the tower)
Thorn. Listen. Put your hands down. I will bring water and wash away the glass. Don’t move.
THORN
Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get. Out. Of. My. Head.
FAE
I’m not in your head. I’m here, Thorn. Open your eyes. Don’t move. You’ll hurt yourself more. I need to clean you up. It’s going to be ok, my heart. But don’t move, ok?
THORN
I don’t want to be here. I wanted you to stop him.
FAE
I made a terrible mistake. I know. Stay still. I have to get the water.
THORN
No, you don’t understand. I never believed you would stay with me. You said it so many times. That you would go. That you would leave. And I needed that proof. That I mattered. You sent him. And I watched you through the window. As he fucked me. And you did nothing. You promised me a life without that kind of violence. And you did nothing.
FAE
Be calm, Thorn. I’m here. I will stay now. Just wait. It was a mistake. I’ll explain.
THORN
I don’t want to be here.
FAE
Ok, baby, I’ll take you home.
THORN
I don’t want to be here anymore. With you. You need to go now.
FAE
What do you want me to say, Thorn?
THORN
I want you to look at me like I am actually here. Covered in glass and blood. To see the way that I loved you. Because the way that I loved you mattered. You ungrateful fucking awful bitch. The way I loved you mattered to me. What do I want you to say?! What do I want you to say. Say thank you. And then I don’t ever want you to come near me again.
FAE
(Moving quickly for water and towels. Talking frantically to keep Thorn engaged.)
Listen. Listen. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. I wanted you to have a family. To have people to love after I was gone. I didn’t think I would get to stay with you, Thorn, and now, though I can and I will stay with you, I’m not going to outlive you. I wanted an easier life for you.
THORN
Are you fucking high? Jesus Christ. My decision was made. My decision was you. It wasn’t just that I let you make love to me. Me, the unfuckable. The never-desired. And believe me, every time you reached for me first, I pathetically thanked every fucking being for finally letting someone pay that kind of attention to me. No, it wasn’t just that. It was the way you listened, the way you held my words in a kind of blanket of attention that I could feel through my skin, and how months later you’d mention something I said, something I didn’t even remember, to show you were still there. How could you ever let me believe in that you and then take her away from me?
FAE
Thorn. The glass. Stop moving in the glass.
THORN
You shouldn’t worry. I don’t feel anything. That small creature slid from my body last night like a silver snail in the moonlight. She was so radiant. I wrapped her in gauze and buried her in the garden. I think we would have named her Josephine. I think I would’ve watched you hold her for hours, curled into your neck, rocking and sleeping. But, like all of this, all of this world you’ve created around me, she was never mine.
FAE
I was so afraid for you. For us. And you have always been so very brave.
THORN
I have always been so very brave.
FAE
Stay.
THORN
It’s over.
FAE
I refuse to believe that.
THORN
Now there are only stars clustered and ancient. I wanted you to know me. And how I would never abandon. How I would throw us out like a net to catch what has always been so complicated. How I would throw us out like a net to catch all of the life that we once wanted. Here (places a scissor in Fae’s hand), before you go. My hair grew so long while you were away. So long. One last time.
Fae takes Thorns face in her hands. She begins to cut away the long lengths of hair. Both women cry through the sheering away of Thorn’s hair.
BLACKOUT.
Jen Rouse is the Director of the Center for Teaching and Learning at Cornell College. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Poetry, Poet Lore, Midwestern Gothic, Wicked Alice, Parentheses, Yes Poetry, Crab Fat Magazine, Up the Staircase, Southern Florida Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. She was named a finalist for the Mississippi Review 2018 Prize Issue and was the winner of the 2017 Gulf Stream Summer Contest Issue. Rouse’s chapbook, Acid and Tender, was a finalist for the Charlotte Mew Prize and published in 2016 by Headmistress Press. Riding with Anne Sexton, Rouse’s second book, is forthcoming from Bone & Ink Press in collaboration with dancing girl press. Her plays have been produced by SPT Theatre Company and Theatre Cedar Rapids. Find her at jen-rouse.com and on Twitter @jrouse.