Serpent and Child

I have been small -
miniscule -
staring down a serpent roughly seven times my size,
discussing with her
the nature of lies.

"Tell me a story,"
says she in my mind.
"Tell me a story
of futures and timelines."

"Truth is construction,
and your wings don't give flight.
You've been larger before,
smaller inside.
Don't tell me you've never thought you could fly -"
This serpent is honest as she spins her lies.

I've tasted colors,
pole danced for pixies,
slept with incubi -
"Don't tell me you've never thought you could fly."

I stare myself down,
Wonder why I'm roughly seven times my size.
I gaze up with trust and wide child's eyes -
"Please tell me you'll be my guide."