Silver (teeth)

Hey fairybaby
You’ve got mud on your shoes
And grit in your teeth

You’ve been tied and
Tired and ground down
Until you fit
Something recognisable

And once in that shape
You shouted that it was yours
(because oh baby if it
wasn’t then the universe is
scarier than you could fend off)

but baby no shape could hold you.

Each ,in each place, yourstyle
Yourscream kept in and your monsters
Whispered their world stories in your ear
(no amount of headshaking would clear them, no
upping the volume could chase them
out of your head)

and as they whispered you
grew adding their dance strides
to your dance steps until you
couldn't remember whose feet were whose
(and yes you stood on some toes, baby)

and as you grew ties snapped and your
teeth turned silver and you began to
look more and more like the moon

and people got scared. But only the
people who made the ties. Only the
people for whom monstersundethebed
never held any hope.

People who see size as measured in
More and Less, not Who. Not When.

People who see outlines only and not the 
Squintfor rainbows, the cloud shapes in
The middle.

Because fairybaby you could never
Let your monsters go. They are your home as
Much as you are theirs, you are their Moon and they are your
Wild and some people will always be scared.

Because whatever shape you
Make yourself:
Small or straight or homemadedinner
Shaped, your teeth will always someday(night,hope)
Start to glow silver...

So, FairyBaby, moonsunwindchild,
Dirtchild Wildchild lets go and paint
Cities while they sleep! Lets grimace in
Peoples windows and let them think
It's the moon, intruding in their dreams

Lets howl and dance and spinstories
Until we get a goldgrimaceglow back
From some windows

And we will add Monsters
To our band.

Megan

I love your CAPITALS

Your voice that SHOUTS about

IMPORTANT things

And EXCITING things

And MAGIC things

And shouts for ME

And ANYONE who can

See the MAGIC

Your voice that takes me

STOMP STOMP STOMP

Back to our garden

And me FOUR and you SIX

And you EXPLAINING the

WORLD to me.

Because it was IMPORTANT

To MUDPIES and MULBERRIES

And imaginaries in BOXES AND BUBBLES

To bathtime ADVENTURES, where you

Were PIRATE QUEEN but made me, nearly

Always FIRST mate (and sometimes the parrot)

To FIGHTS about the colour of the SKY

And my first introductions to spectrums of truth, BLUE

I would say, YES NOW, you said but MAINLY PURPLE

And I cried frustrated tears about MAINLY

And we STOMP STOMP STOMPED

STORIES.

Mainly stories,

riddled with truths,

like

The earthworms we

saved off the tiles,

After the rain.