I see you, handmaids, nymphs,
do not turn to stone when I approach.
I heard you plucking your lyres
and came to dance, but you all shy away.
I stand at the center of your ring,
smelling the pastries, the wine.
You don’t need to hide,
for I’m like you, fae, gifted.
I can see through your disguises
and brought fruit from my grove.
Fine, I shall dine alone,
listening to the wind sing through
the nooks of your lithic skin.
You can all stand and watch,
if this is your hospitality,
the way you welcome your kith and kin.