Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2023
the time has come to burn the witch. if you recognize her, keep silent. if she is innocent, say nothing. guilt, as it is measured by the eye socket of milk snake skull/ as it runneth through bone to pool in a fleshless land/ is present here. in this witch. in this body. which is to say, there is time left to drink from the howlite moon. but do not ask the witch how. we have taken precautions. we have made perfect her form. mouthless as a moth. eyeless as a worm. watch, now, as she calms upon the pyre. as she soul calls fate. i think we will live to regret this.
Mote
Written by
Mote  31/F/Michigan
(31/F/Michigan)   
61
     sofolo and JoJo Nguyen
Please log in to view and add comments on poems