Let’s evanesce in a coruscating mushroom cloud of magical, mauve smoke;
We’ll fly away to the morning star in a copper teapot, splitting rainbows with the Bowie knife of a sea glass prism.
Bring your sequined mage’s cape, we’ll go see Silver Leopard, the big top aerialist.
We’ll ride a glass elevator to tomorrow; steaming up its panes with Cleopatra’s secret treasury of cobra tongue kisses.
I’ve got a golden fishtail braid: Rapunzel’s rope; I’m hanging by it out of a steam powered balloon, my hand extended to you.
Grab it and we’ll soar together over the spires of Victorian London, dangling by a yellow thread of princess hair.