Fairytale

I hung upon a crook in the moon
spelling eternity for you with
shards of ice but the fall was
hard and I was unable to keep
dawn from breaking. The
next night I ripped the webbing
from a dream catcher showing
desperation in five clawed fingers,
vowing to obliterate every mean,
every deviation keeping you
from me. My neck stiffened
waiting for a star, but
I must have blinked, lacking
discipline. I wished instead on
the tail lights of an airplane winking
at me from above, suggestive of a
path. I followed until a bad leg swooned,
then made love to mirages in
the desert while my armor melted
into dust. Stroking a burning sun
I wished of you,
wished of you,
wished of you.
I returned home,
tearing out my hair to spin
into a tawny rope to fling
outside the window in case
the door should jam.