At the start we know the kingdom is over. At the start we know how the story ends. The passive press of such stirring beauty. The tangled slab where the dreamer pauses, unchanging beneath all the wandering stars. A spell cast in spite and envy. A kiss the only wish left unmoved. So we wait for the ever after. The happy ending of that fade to black.
Oh sweet lie and fevered promise. Oh tomorrow come that at long last cure. The moon melts, the moon swells. The dry eyes and scratching limbs fiddle with the windows. The night paws and gropes its oaths, bared flesh and unfastened buttons. There is that radio that never rests, that doppler always driving through. Await each promise, ache for the letter. That one true thing that will pull you through. The calendar pontificates and the dashboard clock nags. The years unspool, rattling down the rails. Everything left just wishing once the numbers come home.
The story says she will awaken. The story says that prince will come. The reward due from so much stillness. Beauty only true when it is silent as a stone. The cruel magics and foul deceits will fail, overwhelmed in the telling. All alarms sound and the castles crumble. Patience that virtue preached by each usurper and thief. Dream on, though the day is waiting. Dream on, though your labor awaits. A proud white horse and our golden savior. Wait for that kiss while the whole world rots.
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