He leaps, scale and wing the color of dark emerald.

“When your king took my gold, he robbed not my treasure...”

I am but a screaming mouth and flailing arm...

“You are kind,” she said, “but no kiss will restore me.”

“Now take this path home, not the goat trail.”

But some days— a once-child enters my menagerie.

She points to my phone. I hand it over.

“Sorry, it’s a one-pilot starfighter.”