fairy tale

poem, 8-7-26

your love has always seemed to me

a long con

wolf befriending sheep,

being taken in your sleep

i sipped slowly at first,

expecting poison

i trained my eyes

to search yours

like a penlight

not imagining

that i could be useful

for so long,

when does the shoe drop

never mind

that our two ships

sail so close

that they sometimes

scrape each others’ sides

i just know what i saw

in you, at first,

and what you

didn’t see in me

that fairy tales

are dried flowers

that last until they crumble,

and i might die in your arms

believing it.

^{photograph by Stephen Walker}