The crazy lies, the incredible detail
of faerytales. I keep a record of
each assertion;
would we live differently if apples
were apples, not enchanted fruit
laced with poison?
I'm tired of magic; it's a lovely thing
to die at the end of a story. This is
exactly when we know
we've grown tired, insist on closing
the book before the treacherous
win everything and everything
is lost.
No comments:
Post a Comment