Knight, you were the intruder,
charging forth with symbols bellowing.
The forest paused at the sight of you —
all fiery red cross and sword.
My dear children swarmed back into me.
My dark gaping mouth, to be precise.
You were repulsed. You acted.
We both lost our heads.
You should learn about monsters.
We are parents, too, with ancient methods.
You do not seem so concerned
by celebrated virgins who pass
their children to goddesses. Perhaps
the lovely do not need a reason.
I perplexed the pedestal.
I spilled on your hands.
This mouth might appear quite dreadful
to you. But I was not a bad mother.