Cling close, and let my hair curtain us

From the world we hold so inordinately dear.

I grew it out for you- and this

Years of preparation for momentary bliss.

I saw your hands in tumbling locks

And your seraphic smiles in my dreams.

I held dear the prophesy that I wove for myself

Like the dress a princess-girl might ask of an elf.

But my fantasy's rejected

These strands form steel, not silk.

I unknowingly worked prison-knots

And locked out the world 'till we forgot.