You came to me once
as a little boy
whom I decided that I loved.
...
...
...
...
You came to me first with
stars in your eyes
and smiles in your mouth
and nothing important to say.
...
You were so little that
I could've taken you
and carried you
'round the world,
stashing prizes and memories
in your frills
and in your braid.
...
You were a
walking
porcelain doll
that I might've wanted to take home
and tell you stories
and tell the world you were
mine.
...
But you weren't.
...
You came to me first
with coy shyness
and a blush on your cheeks
and an exit seconds later.
...
...
...
...
You came to me second with
a mission on your mind
and a scowl on you face
and bags under your glassy eyes.
...
You weren't so much
bigger than before
that I could've taken you seriously.
And so I laughed.
...
The second time you'd
shown your
elusive face,
I'd laughed at it
drunken sailor I was.
...
You didn't like that.
...
You came to me second equipped,
with a wand of your own.
You aimed it at me and fired
and I asked,
playfully,
Where's the little boy I'd met before?
...
You blushed
and put away your wand
and briskly left
again.
...
...
...
...
You came to me third with
a drug in your mind
and some hate in your heart
and some power under your braid.
...
You laughed
like I laughed before.
And you kept calling me,
Stupid king.
...
You started firing at me
and as I dodged your magic
I wondered where the little boy I'd met
all those years ago
had gone.
...
You came to me third
without a plan
but only your anger
and when you lost the fight,
you ran away
yelling the whole while of how
you'd one day
take my life.
...
...
...
...
You came to me fourth with
a confession in your head
and some lies in your mouth
and a lust for death that racked your body.
...
Don't look at me like that...
You said.
...not when I'm just as much a victim...
...
Are you?
...
You killed that little boy.
The porcelain doll
with stars in his eyes
and smiles in his mouth
and nothing important to say.
...
You started to cry.
You grew all red in the face, like a tomato.
It hurt to look at you.
You hear me?
It hurt.
...
So I reached out
to the little boy
and to you.
...
And you laughed.
...
I hated you.
Just when you almost let that
little boy out,
you locked him back up again
and
laughed.
...
And you kept laughing,
all the while.
...
...
...
...
I came to you never,
not once.
...
I didn't need a Magi.
And if I did,
there was Aladdin,
or perhaps Yunan,
even Scheherazade,
before you.
...
So I left you alone.
...
You hated that.
...
You hated me.
...
Is that why you kept coming back,
time and time again?
...
...
...
...
Once, you stopped coming.
...
I didn't see you again.
...
And that's fine.
...
Together, we would've been three.
Me,
you,
and that little boy.
...
And three would've been one too many.