Photo by The Cleveland Museum of Art on Unsplash
Bug eyes wear a crown.
A slimy kiss with no eyelids.
Ribbit—or prince?
My lips curve against the spell.
He croaks in ‘almost’
as though metallurgy could persuade the
marsh to forget its own theology.
The fable insists upon a kiss—
So deliberate, maiden of the fen—
not whether he will transfigure, but what
portion of yourself you are prepared to
forfeit to witness it.
I cross my legs on the edge of the lily pad,
enthroned.
About the Creator
Natasha Collazo
Selected Writer in Residency, Champagne France ---2026
The Diary of an emo Latina OUT NOW
https://a.co/d/0jYT7RR



Comments (1)
Yes queen 👑 💋