When the princess is born we give her a crown of teeth
pried from the skulls of the forest’s predators
so that she will always know that she is something to fear.
She gnaws at our ink-dipped fingers
while we sing to her lullabies in languages not yet spoken
and dab her cheeks with the ashes of burned books;
she will never fear the future or knowledge
or anything else that she does not yet understand.
In her crib we lay thorns
thistles
until she learns not to feel the sting.
We teach her our best tricks.
We tell her how to weave shadows
and scare away princes.
What?
Did you think we would make her beautiful?

I did not think I would find you
under heavy sky;
golden dust caught up in your skirts
spiderwebs hiding in your sleeves
kindness in you that I do not yet know.
We both know the ending before it begins and smile
as star-crossed lovers in on the joke
Here is the song that nobody hears.
Here is us dancing ourselves to
death or divinity.

I plan for the future and you stay where you are
When the summer comes we
will open all the windows
even after all the bugs have been let in.
The creaking floorboards will be like music
when you will try to walk without making a sound.
Our curtains bleached bone death white by the sun,
your reflection bending in the heat.
I see ghosts best in the summer light.