this is something you should know
about women who are raised by mythological creatures —
not only are we the granddaughters of
all the witches that you failed to burn, we are also
the heirs to so much more.
because my mother is a dragon, and
you best believe me when I tell you that
she taught me all the secrets of breathing fire.
I was born wrapped in the flames of
her fierce love, and the armored strength of her scaled body
taught me all that I need to know about storming the castle; it was
she, my dragon-mother, who first buoyed me
aloft during flying lessons; it was her great wings that gave me
shade to rest under when even my tolerance for heat
wilted under the blazing glare of the world.
I need no sword but my own—the one that my mother
forged for me in the fires of her own heart.
I need no shield but my own—the one that my mother
designed for me in the fortress of her arms.
I need no armor but my own—the one that my mother
invented for me fro