the path of the hylic
she had always prized
quantity over quality
with both people and money
never interrogating
the integrity or provenance of either
never asking the hard questions of herself
nor pursuing the big ones,
now, she’s left only with errant glitter,
an impotent wand,
a cortège of pink fools,
her plated crown of paste jewels, askew
you see, that, was all decoy
and i chose to be/come Wicked,
to wear my gold in my bones
and in my blood.