do you remember, brother
those days in the wood
when you ran with the deer —
falling bloody on my doorstep at dusk
stepping from the skin
grateful to be a man?
and do you know, brother
just how I longed
to wrap myself in the golden hide
smelling of musk
blackberries and rain?
tell me that tale
give me that choice
and I’ll choose speed and horn and hoof —
give me that choice
all you cruel, clever fairies
and I’ll choose the wood
not the prince.

Poem by Terri Windling

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