A mycelium hums beneath cracked ice,
the veins of fairy wings waiting to fly -
strands of dna that split twice,
beneath the frozen winter sky.
My ribs tear from the mushrooms gills,
and ice splits where my soul broke free.
Mother pushing me towards the hills,
where bottled fairy’s hang from every tree.
When the lights flicker out and die,
glass cracks through the forest like a spine.
Fairy wings beat loud and cry,
our hearts as one scream for what’s mine.
The ground below begins to breathe,
Mother turns away and lets off a spore,
to light the bulbs, like smiling teeth,
we lock hands to build a wreathe
and I forget what I was before.