There is a faery ring outside.
And, oh, it calls to me.

You remind me of such things.
Folklore, unnatural beauty, tales long-forgotten.
Gilded kings taking mortals to gilded halls; untorn, unblemished.
Silver tongue, bells in the wind, I ask you once more:
can you stop yourself from lying?
Once, you said you would be my north star.
And yet, in the eye of the storm, I can never find you.

You deserve a bouquet of black dahlias.
I will not turn it upside-down. You do not deserve that.

There is a faery ring outside.
For once, I will ignore it calling.