The Wicked Queen by Carolyn Sperry

I don't know if the heart informs the eyes or if the eyes inform the heart,

but O, Prince, I see your reflection in the window and how the wet snow

slants through you and I want to love you.

I don’t know if we even know what love is.

But after the sound of your earnest voice,

the creeping silence in the castle is startled, ready to close

back in while you sleep.

I wish I could heal around the feeling of you with me

like how the body heals around an earring.

I’d keep it like an ornament.

Maybe together we could watch the sun light up the icicles,

the throat of a bird moving.

I’d like to cook for you, to see a cloud gather in your eye.

You’ve got me flipping through my spell books to find something to keep you here.