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
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