“So what if he chains her to a wall in the dark. Growls at her
while they both
wear masks. She always
gets free. She–Ra
doesn’t have a husband.
That’s not who she is.

I drew in my notebook
Morgans and She–Ras
and underground caverns with chains
while my father and his great clerk of necromancy
worked past those talismanic 9–5 hours.
I bent my tiny will
to the mystery of her
two B’s. But

she did not turn her gaze
to me. Except once
to give me a piece of hard candy
the color of her frosty lipstick.
I took it
with reverence.
Witches, after all,
deal in candy. They build
houses out of it. Coffins. Castles.” – Catherynne Valente

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