Once, long ago
I saw faeries dancing.
Their wings flickered upon mushroom dew,
Like coiling tentacles turning pages of the sea.
They were singing their song:
soft voices embracing the highest cloud,
kissing the lowest valley.
Now they come to me:
not as fae, but as foul.
They cry my name
like a gurgle under water.
I listen as I try
to make out their suspicious cries.
Their wings now clinging,
to fire in lieu of the breeze.
From a gentle peck, to a vicious eidolon,
they dance their sad song.
I try and remember how it once was:
Their fluttering tenderness upon the vast sea;
their cries so light, their temperament so bright—
once, long ago.
Olivia Loccisano is a storyteller from Toronto, Canada. She teaches English, Dramatic Arts, and Photography to high school students. She is inspired by the magic of the absurd and how young women and children navigate within the world through their own rituals.