the raw princess

the raw princess

The night breeze crawled heavily over the sill.

Something rustled at the bottom of the lawn,

like a chitinous card player

dealing out her hand, or a bear,

moving toward her through a stand of cane.

Marcia leapt out the window,

landing in the black soil of her mother's

flower bed. The hem of her nightgown resettled

around her ankles as she ran through

the dewy grass. She ducked under the

sweet olive and into the magnolia's shadow.

there, opalescent eyes reflecting starlight,

crouched something but dimly seen,

its muscles knotted, ears drooping,

scales rhomboid, blunt teeth and protruding

jaws rioting with the leg of an exhumed

banker. Marcia jumped into the arms

that opened to her, one still holding

the ragged remains of its dinner.

Her soft cries wafted through

her parents' open window,

but they did not awake.

The end

Publ. Aoife’s Kiss, 2005