You don't know what it's like, living with thorns in your hands.

My father wakes me in the middle
of the night
shaking me
yelling and asking me
If I would like to send a big rocket into the sky
to make sparks
If I would ever decline the throne
to avoid wearing a crown
or to delay meeting a diamond

I was born in winter
then spring came and
the rivers learned to move again

My father shakes my head awake
in the middle of the night
yelling
"You don't know what it is like
living with thorns in your hands
bees in your mouth
and nails jammed up through your shoe"

Soon I had to choose between the
sea-water and the
night-sky

I moved my body until it fell
down in a
gutter
until closet doors broke
and came crashing down
on top of my head.