I took my first breath, and the entire world made merry.

I had charmed them all.

At 5, I sleep on the brightest part of the moon, and dance on ceilings instead of floors.

By 8, I trade my first language for paper and ink.

I conquer villains and shadows, and saddle a white tornado before I am 12.

By 17, my memories of youth hover in vain, though my own wings never tire.

I nestle on rooftops, hold a ballerina at gunpoint at 21.

I farm indigo dye by 23.

At 26, everyone, everywhere, knows my true name.

I hold my breath at 30, a second wind secretly pocketed away.

And by 34, my theme song is born.

She had charmed us all.