Someday My Prince Will Go
Heather Dyer
You were my birch-bark blue fairy
and my Disney prince.
“Close your eyes and make a wish.”
I stood on tiptoes, holding the star high
above my head-- my freehand fanning my tail
of females I could be.
“Unto you a child is born.”
Choose a child, any child.
You reached out a hand and
I smiled in Crystalman-victory.
But you’re a Peter Pan person
with plenty of pixie dust.
Your hand could fly-- You could fly; you could fly.
You stole the star instead and
my fake feathers fell to the floor.
You tossed your jeans on top of Jiminy Cricket
and I counted kisses and marveled at
how horribly heavy my phony plumage had been.
I love your pixie dust--
But I can fly without it now-- if I have to.
I’ve blown out the candle
and made my wish--
and what I want
is happy thoughts for you.
Even if it means I can’t be in them.
