there was a narrative
she clung to like
a branch above
a dragon in a moat
it wasn’t comfortable
but it was safe
this branch, this story
she’d been told, been sold,
been fed like broth
that found its way inside
the marrow of her bones
then one day curiosity
let slip her grip
she splashed into her moat
and wrapped her legs
around the dragon’s neck
who carried her to see
when they returned
she threw the castle
drawbridge out with
shouts and cut it’s chains
now lots of dragons
visit all the time
they light her hearths
and coil before them cozy
with their iridescent tails
but sometimes still
when winds blow wrong
straight through her open gate
these stories in her marrow
shake her bones with
once upon a times
but having been to see
she can’t recall the
happily ever after.