Tuesday, March 24, 2015

NON-FAIRY GODMOTHER

A lie—my child
is a wish

your heart 
is willing to let die.

And it is real work—letting 
a thing die;

islanded
out there—as it must be

in the very 
midst of your 
very real life

as a single dream 
in the 
vast ocean of night might be;

but not undertaken 
in order 
to deny life—

but rather 
simply
to spite it a little.