In my gold opera cape pocket
Twitches an egg-scented, dog-faced bat,
His once sharp shriek, an agonized growl,
Undignified, sing-songy long vowel.
Glues shut one sunken eye.
Mold has brazenly begun to grow
On claws that coaxed avalanche from scant snow.
He is deaf, he is blind,
Not the prince that haunts my mind.
I’m a kind soul, ooh, I swear.
I forgot I trapped him there.
I’ll hang him from the chandelier
Upside-down with a garbage tie,
Feed him field mice and icy rain,
That he might rise to say goodbye.
Closure, I didn’t get it.
The Bite? I don’t regret it.
Revenge? I’m quite above it.
Creature? How could I love it?
Lost prince can’t soar, he can’t walk.
Breath so labored, he can’t talk.
He flips in circles like a toy,
A broken one I can’t destroy,
For I was lost, he made me laugh,
An empty space in a photograph.
My Love Is Nothing Like the Sun
by Rebecca Lu Kiernan