harking back to an earlier poem of mine: poor wendy -- all the heroines get left behind. but she was a darling after all. yes, i very much have tears in my eyes. and it shall be hard to see, and sometimes i won't want to, but i will go on looking an...
your mother's tongue loving but lashing some times all ways like glass in your child doll's eyes heard on sun rosed ears sweet pixie child so small at your birth you were the length of mother's forearm with your head held in the hand and you were named eleanor bethany denise but you were as a dreamchild a lydia that was loved so in another world but eleanor els you were a white lily petal pink name as washing out on the line early summer time with that hint of lavender but you cried so much as a baby you would not stop crying nothing appeased you make me so angry i could just hit you nelly and you are a tormented soul by choice tiny pixie only four pounds when you came open eyed into the world with your mouth a hint of blue asphyxiation and how you fought with your sister you are an animal you belong in a zoo you were a mummy's girl when you were little and brought her letters of apology until maman screamed but daddy never called you names so that you are difficult you and your sister were miserable shits you are named after aliénor d'aquitaine though your mother's mouth said you cannot cry and you do not feel strong as a queen you can be such a bitch sometimes you are the baby of the family you are heartless you are her youngest her last child
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