Even as a child I objected to Pegasus centaurs and griffins
Vertebrates with six appendages
But as an adult I was thrilled by the thoughts
That the skull of an elephant had inspired the tale of the Cyclops
That the griffin was really the skeleton of a ceratopsian
But ultimately and reductively the mermaid was just a manatee

I worried that I was incapable or had lost the capability
Of letting myself go and giving myself over to fantasy
For facts putatively explained myths away
But the myths themselves those superfluous appendages
Held no particular appeal
Ah but when the myth and the fact array themselves in correspondence