Because you kept your head close to my heart as you lay within my belly, I did not push you from the womb but had you taken from inside by a stranger's two hands. You could not fight to avoid the world, and, for that, came out unbruised.
But there is a wickedness that awaits you, and though I may wipe away your tears I will not always be able to exile their cause, And, now, while you are little more than a babe in arms, you laughed with ease as I lie awake at night wishing I could forever have my belly cut to keep you safe.
And so the ancient, unexperged fairy tales-- the tales of dragons that feed on men and mermaids that die for love-- are the ones I'll read with you not to frighten you or make you laugh less but because they tell of the hurt healed only by love.