fiction 

Fear Not

Keira Mayo

​

I, the siren, do sing and wail and chant

to call you near and down and deep.

So south even the trees have feet

who exploit adversity and tire for soil.

 

I, half maiden half tail, wade in poise or poison

to keep you close and warm and safe.

So soothing are the pinches from your leaves

that I dare say I sang right to the root.

 

I, conniving and cruel, craft nerves

to build you in system and sentiment and subtly

so. Wretched with herstory, she makes no room for his

for as long as they both did swim.

 

I, blissful and wild, did overwhelm and turn

to leave you pruned and pulped and blue.

So crooked you were in a boney musical

that I could not help but drown you.