And I could feel the little stars stirring
burning new pathways through her sturdy mind

forgo of shortcuts, the bustling frenzy
where whispered promises ran their bloody game

She would come to conclusions, again
and let those given truths fall like ancient stone-

work. I smell treachery on the breath
of morning as it hides between her windows and

whatever's lurking outside. Dragon's
promise, I laugh horrifyingly beastly with my grim

mirror fanged smile. She makes our
contradictions seem lesser forgiving, this wicked

little girl; Isabelle. And her beast of
burden.