She curled up with them,
their black and twisted horns
catching in her hair
and sticking in the back of her mind.

She slept soundly, hiding herself
in the hollows of their many eyes,
warming in the fires of their bellies.

Five-pointed stars burned black
in the nighttime around her,
keeping her locked in
the demon’s embrace.

She woke, stars guttering out
in the ink of a midwestern dawn.
Scaled arms dropped away from her side,
a forked tongue hissed goodbye.

Her skin ached in this new light,
stretched tight over bones
that were not hers.
She was too soft without the scales.