'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse.
The mice were sautéed
in a fine red wine,
thinly filleted
for the fragile cats to dine.
The cats writhed and mewled
outside Sassafras's door.
Somewhere down O'Malley's Alley
a crow cawed, "Nevermore."
Sassafras smiled
through tears like a blight,
blinked at the welling
that made the lights twinkle so bright.
"One day,"
she wished on the star so high,
"my prince will come
before I die."
From deep in the dark,
she heard a ghostly clatter.
She ran out into the cold
to see what was the matter.
There in the gloom,
on the darkest of nights
gleamed the eyes so clear
of her shining knight.
With bow cocked
and arrow drawn,
he cornered her spectres
and sang her a song.
"Weep no more,
my beautiful girl.
I will calm your storms
when your dark clouds swirl.
I will fight for your heart
as you have for theirs.
I will kiss your scars,
and I will drink your tears.
With all that I am
and all that you wish,
I make you this promise,
sealed with a kiss."
He booed her ghosts
and shooed her cats.
He dusted his hands and proclaimed,
"That is that."
He shot his arrow
through her heart.
He kissed her hand and said,
"Let's start."
"Why me?" she whispered.
"What did I do?"
"You wished for me,
and I am here for you."
With that she turned
to face her future,
her past behind her,
without those creatures.
"I am here," she murmured,
"for you and only you."
"I know this," he smiled,
"truly I do."
He kissed her then
in the cold night air,
laid her head on his shoulder
and stroked her hair.
She glanced one last time
at the fragile cats.
"Fuck you all.
You had your chance."
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