In a dark wood dwelled a djinn
who sat on an old oak stump
counting his fingers to pass the time.
But this was the island for misplaced magic,
and two became four became eight…

When a fairy stumbled over his feet,
his eyes blinked for the first time
in 1200 years. He opened his arms
and she climbed onto his indigo knee.
She begged for three; he replied, "Only one!"

I wish to go home again.

She did not disappear as expected.
No mother’s face, no home tree,
no sisters hanging twinkling lights
in branches under the dim crescent moon
to wink as fireflies to distant humans.

Instead, she saw her own fingers evaporate away
into lavender, cerulean, gold dust that took flight
on the evening breeze up, up, up beyond the canopy
to rest with the nebulous galaxy. Next, her arm.
Strangely, serene. His twist could have been below dirt.

Stardust wasn’t wrong.

Constellations called her to become one of them.
Come to Pavo, for you are a bright peacock feather.
Come to Lyra, the sweet music you play will be eternal.
Come to Aquarius, your dewdrop eyes will refresh the grail I carry.
She willed infinitesimal slivers to float around each star cluster.

The sky blazed brighter. The djinn shut his eyes and smiled.

Silver winner of this contest: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2830961-National-Poetry-Month-April-14th-noguest