“Fairies of Versailles” Newest series from Penelope & Beatrice creator Monica Michelle. If you look in the corners, down a fountain, and pay very close attention near the pots you might see what many have never noticed. A wing, a crown, a decorative panel left just a little bit open. Was that a fin you saw disappearing into the fountain? If you are lucky and extremely clever you might notice that alongside royalty lived a race of faerie quite happy and mostly secret.

Mermaid

Circus

What you might know of as a circus did not really exist at the time of Versailles. I say not really since everything that was fairy was both real and unreal all at the same time. Circuses were a time when the most fantastical of fairy and Earth came together all at once. One could have a small man from the other side of the world who absentmindedly swished a fox tail in and out of his robes tell you who you might marry or if you or the fish girl will be an uncrowned queen. Acrobats would hold their pose a heartbeat or two longer than probability and logic could allow. A larger woman could serve you anything before you could ask for everything. More often than not the flavors were your warmest night curled safe by a fire place, the colors were that of sun parting blossoms, and if you were lucky to have honey in it the scone would vibrate softly in your hand the hum of a thousand fat bumble bees droning softly in your ear. A person neither man nor woman but tall even sitting would hold a pen over your skin. They would draw a map from your index finger to your elbow. “Follow this and find your fortune. Down past rivers, over waves, to the pounding mountain you will find what is a price above rubies. Many who were unwise and unschooled were disappointed when the next morning all they found was the blue of their veins. Magical creatures never seen before could be found in a variety of velvet tents. A favorite was a mermaid swimming in a goldfish bowl. Many were worried that she seemed trapped. Her keeper would have none of it. “Her trapped? Never! This one was born in a captivity. Right in my own pond. I went one day to get my fortune from the fish and there it was. Big as a minnow and white as a pearl. Her egg. You could almost see her swimming in it. When she hatched I made this bowl for her from the under side of a dragon’s egg and we go traveling every since. Don’t you go on letting her think she’s trapped. She has a million secrets and how she gets out and wanders around with you all is one of her best. You might even recognize her if you could see past how sorry you feel for her. Perhaps one of your friends is missing tonight? How any of you could tell with all your dresses and powders is beyond me. Now hurry on and tomorrow give all your friends a closer look. See which of them keeps rushing to the lakes.”

Galaxy

I am free falling through the universe
I am a shudder started from the belly rolling 
I am made of all there ever was all there will be
I am the dust of stars 
you can see the shine behind my eye
Take a cell of my blood you will find a beauty magazines do not cover
I am of helixes explosions implosions
I am made of galaxies unseen
I am a second a moment a breath
I am infinite

Lean In

Lean in
little child
I have a secret.
In the few years your eyes have opened
and your mind and body have hurled through the world,
surely my babe
you have observed
that not every story ends in joy.
Perhaps,
you might have seen
in your own infant travels
that the sun eventually sets.
You,
my tadpole
could see
screaming did not reset the world
eventually all eyes close.
My little minnow
with wet and shiny eyes
come close,
bring your shell ear near
I have the most important secret for you,
and you
alone.
Sorrow,
my heart of hearts,
is a superpower.
No, do not dry your eyes
and do not hide.
The sad that can slow time
So slow you can see what was before.
In the stillness my dear traveler,
you might even hold a moment
turning it over and over until
you see every part of joy that it held.
Only then will you
My brightest eyed one
with you see what mattered.

Marie Antoinette

M m. Queen

I thought I knew you once, saw you once. Dress shimmering with million stones reflecting a broken and bleeding sky. You belonged to us all because we were yours. You were all that was missing and unattainable in our dirt colored lives. Your slightest step or glance became a story for generations. Something we could take from you, an insight. The wobbled step, the distracted smile, was there a lover that made your cheeks burn or was thee something smaller, secret and curled as the midwife said. For days after the local girls would bathe naked in the river lifting their goose dimpled skin to the sun watching the light catch the drops that fanned over their limbs and bellies. We would howl, tease and admire infinite in our watery kingdoms. We would stay wet and chilled until our mothers would run and warn of chilled and heated deaths that awaited our ungodly frivolity. When she died us girls were so very much older. The story of the fair young slight girl had passed our lips to our daughter’s ears. We were more forgiving of their river exploits. It reminded us of the young and the infinite. It reminded us that we had been hers. Even far from the city we wore the red ribbon just above the hollow of our throats.

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