She explained that she suffered under a curse.
That she had been a pumpkin before. She recounted
a lifetime of sunshine. Rain was ecstasy beyond
her powers of speech: she might have been a saint of rain.
The magician who made her first a golden coach
and then a woman, was the devil of her cosmology,
having forced form, fate and function on a soul
that wanted nothing but to ripen, rot,
fulfill a simple mandate, without
all of this talking.