At first she was sure it was just a bit of dried strawberry juice,
or a fleck of her mother's red nail polish that had flaked off
when she'd patted her daughter to sleep the night before.
But as she scrubbed, Snow felt a bump, something festering
...
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Poor Snow White. If it wasn't for her MILF things would have been so much different.
It is a great imagination and wonderful poem on snow.