Tinkerbell,
You should claim your love,
Your dust uplifts the imaginative,
Fancying the image your Pixie holds.
A tiny ring held your winged image,
I received the token from a dwarf,
Whom greedily devoured its bearer.
I washed clean its sweet carnage,
With your bare left hand in mind,
But when I placed the jest upon it,
The wedded finger held its ground,
An invisible band lay midst its place.
The pink blood on your cheeks spoke,
An enchantment had been yet laid,
The incantations of mine too late,
Replied the rosy blood on my cheeks.
We smiled in the twilight hence,
Reflecting the muted gore,
Shying from its shove.
You should claim your love,
Tinkerbell.