Unspool wordwire from the forge-blow of my head. Leave me with a snarl of isolated syllables. 
Leave me with Oberon. Leave me with incantations. Leave me with admiration: fuck.
Take half of my body and transmute it into electricity, 
fizzing, untouchable. Make the other half 
your clay. 
The idea of my skull split open when I slumped to the ground in an emergency room 
and doctors spoke gently to me for the first time in my life. 
I can’t stand for six minutes but 
my senses number many more. Power tugs the frayed strings of my nerves
pulling my numb hands to predictions. The orbs surrounding tulips 
knock me back with dazzling light. peppermints 
slip under my tongue during rituals like sublingual nurtec as 
the fae glitter loudly. places of enchantment spin, 
lurching me out. I press my forehead to the nearest tree 
told to count breaths. eat a handful of lychees. 
Fight or flight distills to stillness 
Roots reaching through the ground 
palms to the earth. 
Take my willing sacrifice of mortal chaos. I lose all words but prayer.

[Ennis Rook Bashe is a Lesfic Bard Award-winning romance novelist and Elgin Award-nominated disabled poet whose work has appeared in Strange Horizons, Cricket, and Liminality Magazine. You can find more of their writing at https://linktr.ee/ennisrookbashe.]