My name is Tinkerbell, my jaws strong as
a crocodile. I see you turn from black
to white in the sun of the morning. I am seen

as at the end of a tunnel running towards you.
At least it would be running if my limbs
were not asunder and this were not

thin air. I don't meant to hurt you, I simply
do, out of size. You sing songs into my ear
they calm me for a dizzy moment. You point to

the sun, I turn from black to white inside
my own limbs. Who makes this howl, whose
hind quarters drag like a bag of ocoal?

A blue stare off into space, another howl.
The quick hiss of tyres over where I was.
Oh the figurine I must have made,

the black body flung in the air, the heartbeat
swimming to catch up. Tell me I am a gorgeous
girl. Magnificent as a human being, wagons

of onlookers. What will become of my needle
teeth? Tinkerbell, you say, Tinkerbell
all will be well and all manner of things will be well.