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I’m not one of those girls who

goes to the Prince’s balls

spinning glitter and shining

like the ballerina box I had as a child,

or one of those butterflies that flit

jewel bright and beautiful

down a preordained path.

 

I go to the midnight ball

dancing barefoot in the courtyard

when the moon is new and

the obsidian sky trembles at crystal starlight,

a furred moth spreading wings

a foundling in the darkness

that will tear the sky down.

 

When you gave me that broom

you didn’t know I’d learn to ride it,

so while you cut pieces away

to force your feet into those shoes

I’ll wear ankle bracelets and garden dirt,

luring the Prince become a wolf

savage and mesmerized by my siren’s call

to the vast and aching wild.



Julie lives on the Bay in Maryland with two interdimensional cats. Her work has appeared in magazines and anthologies such as Penumbra, EOTU, Mythic Delirium, and others. You can find her on twitter @forgottenbeauty.
Current Issue
2 Oct 2023

How did we end up so far east, on the flanks of a cold beach? You told me you always wanted to see the Pelagio, ever since you were a child. But your skin was never made for water. You shouldn’t have ever learned to swim.
look through the soap, the suds, the sopping wet clothes
as she leaves mortality behind / She always returns to me
Wednesday: Infinite Constellations: An Anthology of Identity, Culture, and Speculative Conjunctions edited by by Khadijah Queen and K. Ibura 
Friday: The Moonlight Blade by Tessa Barbosa 
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