what is a frog prince to do?
unnoticed and too far from his maiden’s lips to make a transforming impression
a tree frog with broken legs
my only chance to walk again will be with legs of a man
I climbed one night to her lofty heights and called repeatedly to her ear. Startled by my unknown voice she swept me from my heavenly perch
in the wasteland flat I flail and croak and twitch,
longing to ascend; in the saving hand of my maiden,
or the merciful beak of the heron.
my only amelioration is the enchanting sight of her in moonlight
and the night breeze carrying her lovely voice to my sun-cracked ears
I know to not struggle against the story
there’s a reason these things came to be
with me so stuck like an infant
and her so inviting like a tree