Ariel, wounded
She got her legs.
But every step
was a vertical slice:
stainless steel
with a lifetime guarantee,
flashing
beneath the burning sky.
She still had her voice.
But a low murmur in water
was a howl in air. She barked
like a sea lion.
She knew only
her own language,
could not bear shoes,
had no table manners.
She frightened him:
a strange wild thing
beautiful
like polished bone
outshining
any jewel
he could give her.
She dissolved
like sand in a storm,
fell backwards
into air. On the wind
her voice was sweet
again, and he was sorry
she was gone.