Every room has a din.
You just have to listen
hard enough.

This din was a spoken one,
like where actors mutter
"...rhubarb, rhubarb..."


Her steps made a percussive
clacking sound
that echoed from
wall       to       wall,
pervasive and acute.

But what truly stuck out
                                                             ­                 did so from only one side.

Her, the weird one.
  Her, accident prone.
   Her, the girl with
            one wing.

In a room full of faeries,
                       she stuck out.
                   An entire people
who hid themselves by day,
                           and she
was sequestered.


Everything
twisted          
down          
in a

s    
p      
i    
r
  a
      l
      i
    n
g

d  
e    
s    
  c  
    e
     n
    t

But what would you expect
     from a girl with one wing?