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.

by Vicki Gates Bryant