For my young princes,

don't start your searches in a swamp:
toads kissed and coddled are still toads,
broken mirrors draped with silk are still broken,
the knife sticky with love is still a knife

sorry, so sorry, my sons
but a story you love is still a story
don't ask me for magic books,
maps to the underworld,
a talking horse

a broken girl is still a girl,
also still broken;
sorry about the locks
they won't magically open