There was a certain air
Of mystery
Buried beneath a stack of knives and teeth
Plucked from the mouths of little girls
Cut into paper dolls
Connected by a ribbon
Stripped from a crown of curls
Soft golden curls
Curled around the handle of a gate
Leading to the infinite drought
Of a desert of sand
Wrapping the beaches of a white winter lake
Snow crashing to the ground
Boulders
Mountains
A burning mountain in the distance
Fire burning from within
Smoke spreading the skies
Like a thin layer of ice
Cold as the skin
Of the slithering viper
Scales
Scale
Scaling
Climbing up to the stars
Where the twinkle in her eye
Was the only thing you can think about before you slept
Before you sleep
On a throne of knives and teeth