Your body is a loose uncanny thing, teeth
not mossy boulders, but not tiny pearls either
and I’m sorry we took the time to know each other.
I’m sorry that I looked at your hands
and all I saw was claws, your teeth and saw fangs,
I’m sorry that you only have two hands
and one of them is always busy with something else.
I’m sorry my angles aren’t sharp enough yet.
My body is trapped in a bog, suffocated in peat
and other objects I can’t really name. I’m lying;
I don’t know what peat is and I might be afraid of it.
My body is the place where a bridge is not.
Hailey Spencer is a writer with an obsession for fairy tales. Her poetry has been published online and in print. She appeared in episode 24 of the Mytholadies podcast to discuss Tale-Type 510A, commonly referred to as Cinderella. She lives in Seattle with her wife, Elizabeth. For more on Hailey and her work, go to haileyspencerwrites.com.