A million oceans swept past my door last night
As I shivered and called for Monsieur.
Remembering his mouth, his fingers and eyes
And the way I felt in his arms.

As if dancing on the moon with Thumbelina would make him see her
For the fairy that we knew she was.
Green snakes circled at her porcelain feet,
Their tongues languishing out of their small mouths to lick her toes like puppies to their mothers’ nipple.

Smoke escapes from a room where nymphomaniac nuns giggle and suck at a spliff,
All their black garbed life they have fantastised this moment and now would like some crack.
And at their feet lie brown wart encrusted toads, burping and belching
Like portly gentleman after their port and pipes.

And lastly these oceans take me to a place I feel I’ve been before,
The lilac bedspreads and the china dolls,
The bread in the oven and the dogs in the sun.
I turn to my feet knowing what I’ll see:
A troll whispering to my toenails
Asking them to come dance with him.

He’ll scatter them like dew drops
And kiss them like fair maids,
He’ll stay with them forever,
Even when their colour fades.

And lastly but not leastly
I must admit to being a rather bad beastie
What I wanted never came to me,
So instead I enlisted Hermes
And we wove this tale for you.