It began with love.
On a dark morning, a young princess strayed from the edges of the kingdom’s land to wade in an ancient river. She wanted to find a toad to bring her other sisters. Every evening they cried that she needed to kiss a toad to find her prince.
The young princess loathed the evenings.
She set out with a smile and a motive. She waded into the warm river. Her hands searched the lily pads, the bank, and all the other places for toads. Any toads.
But the water was not kind.
It moaned and crept up her arms and legs. Made her shiver and shriek. It freighted all the toads that were there and the toads that might have hopped along, wondering why the princess was alone and frantic.
Waves lapped up to cut the hollow of her throat. the hands placed a clock inside.
Her dark crown slipped into the water.
This was the poorest mistake.
The water latched onto the crown and sit it atop its largest head. It had many heads, of course, because the water was made of many water-men.
The water crept in the darkness with the power of the crown. It took from the bank, the flowers, the trees, the sky, and the girl.
It took what it could that was beautiful and crushed it into a white globe.
The princess held the moon in her pale hands-but a small rock from the dust,
Let it feast on the flesh of her bones.
The water had many tricks it desired to use.
Moon rose with the wind and whipped its mother’s hair round her neck like rope
Flung itself into the dark sky
Strangled. Drowned.
Silent. Moaning.
And never came back down.
Poetry
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