I’m so sorry to hear you
have wings, a half dozen, you don’t look
like a seraph. I’ve never noticed you’re full
of eyes. Sorry to hear you

are really an empty throne, thousand-spoked
wheels under your soles,
forty teeth in your mouth and too-long arms.
You’re so bright!

This must be hard, your feathers
unfolding, the razors of halogen, the blades
of sirens. Your wedding ring! How
brave for you to be

here. Who told you you’re a dragon?
I study serpents, you’re nothing
like a dragon. Sorry you hover
when you walk, lotus blossoms

spring underfoot, you are doomed
to free the innumerable beings.
Too many! You must wish for a normal
number of limbs.

I will love you the same. Will you
get better? Are you sure your doctor
is right?

---

originally published in The Broken Teacup Volume 4.