Author talks: Thank you guys for the caring reviews, I was a little shocked though, but certainly flattered, T.S Eliot? Wow... I was thinking I was being the poor man's Emilie Autumn for a day. At the suggestion of Regulus I think I will turn this into a series of poems, I'm not sure yet how much I will cover. This one is, as you will see, another of Morgan's memories, just her this time- no Merlin. I'm not sure if I will make the entire collection all about her experiences, or if I'll do one for each major character. Anymore tips that anyone may have would be great. Perhaps I'll even use the poems as a prelude to an entire prose piece. What I really want to do is write a romance between Morgan and Merlin, but I'm not sure if there are enough people in this section for it to be read.

The King's rings left a piece of me for the tooth fairy for every finger he folded.

The words that sent him flying off his old hinge went back down my red throat

He broke a whole alphabet of words because I broke an egg once,

And the tooth fairy was rich with treasure chests of our pearly whites, clinking,

The trove dropping with tears

No words were good, all had to go

Back down to where they came from,

All but silence.

The glove I ate made me slobber a rainbow of things,

The rainbow without oranges or indigo.

Not yellow,

Nor any other line ever showed

But a solid rainbow that soaked my nightshirts.

I fed him a rainbow in a grail when I was bigger,

A wine that keeps words in the stomach,

Safe from hands,

The knuckles to turn skin blue as a fairy's hair.

The Wine of Quiet,

That if only the new king had drunk

I might be as proud as my mother.

I brewed your quiet to the howl of a wolf.

My mother and I were fairies,

How lonely we were

Without you

To share the feast of words in our bellies,

The gauntlets in our navels

The sword that gave her the belly rings of a Roman Slave,

The tattoos that sent her to the grave

Outside the nunnery where I was sent.

I talked to her everyday in the house of women.

No Queen of Camelot, but Queen of the rubies.

And of the amethyst eye!

Bedtime stories and lullabies

Stayed in her skin

Pushed back in,

All of them stay in her body like babes.

The hand over her screaming mouth led

Her to a King's bed.

I heard her talk shoved back down her throat by this King,

and another Queen singing,

And brushing her hair

All pretty with a woodland bastard.

The Queen of my heart chewed His fingers I heard,

Before her face was still and without words.

She ate off the stone floor

Like a mouse she crawled.

And she swallowed every word like the wine I can't have.

She spilled drink on the best of dresses.

I see one of my stories there lying in the wine,

Crooked, coming out her stomach,

Behind the boot that kicked there,

Covered in steel,

From the dragonscales

And chainmail

Of war-torn

The words sank to the bottom of her belly and weighed her down 'till she fell,

And kept every story she was going to weave for me underwater in her skin

The night you cut her off

At the pass, before she hit the princess's room.

The words sank to the bottom of her belly and weighed her down and she fell,

Slipping and sliding on the wine

Under her feet.

The drink in her mouth you'd exchanged for the poems in her stomach,

The quiet of the trade and noise of the soft jewelry coming out of her skin as it poured out onto my bed,

After she climbed over you

And came to

undeterred to tell me a story,

Clumsy as a giant,

A queen crumbled as a spider

White as my missing teeth

Wet as the sheets I sat on grew

Stroking my cheek with a red quill

the bone from where her wedding ring was chopped off

Trying to remember the words of her song with the jewelry shop she kept coughing up

Instead of with the pictures of dwarves, fires and mountains she'd often used.

But pirates had looted her story down to one word left: Help