planted in the heart watered with words like “beautiful” and “woman” whispered filling with  desire and curiosity wondering am I worthy of love and why my husband scoffs and ignores me leaves me for dead by the growing pyre coping with deficit of touch and the release I planted in a spell in my sister’s witch heart to develop in her transitional woman’s chest where I touched and loved and caressed a whisper as she compressed me in her arms flattening us to a singular sobbing whole as she cries “I wish I was a woman” and I weep “you are a woman” and her brother-my husband hates me hates me hates me but I only see her love love love reaching up to grasp the full moon burnt by the sun’s flames planted to remain where we will never return and forever remain born anew in the wind and moonlight from seeds to saplings to women

Trees are Spells

cast in the earth glittering glowing growing gilded green in sunlight and bare under a rising moon burning bright umber flames at dusk when my brother’s wife and I leave the dangerous safety of men and transient houses to worship devils as witches and thicken men’s blood with cold in the wilds with our coven sisters who danced and grew and raised girls in the flickering lights and shadows of our pasts and wept for the wonderous woods now wailing when the wind winds through the twisted branches and our bodies wrap around each other her hand free her lips red caressing my breast and whispering my beauty white like death incanting my new womanhood transing to the rhythm in our blood summoning demons up up up through the soil packed around our roots we reach our limbs up to the full moon and feel the wind twist through us