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I stand naked
Wrapped in flame and smoke.
My long hair–
Oh, my long, flax fiber hair…
I forgot my hat and broomstick
I left my shoes in the chimney.
The trial begins.
The first witch wears labeled clothes
Her name is Margaret.
She claims she has never been to Oz.
But you can see the magic swimming eerily in her eyes.
“Sheriff Corwin, the black Tutuba, actually Succuba
the poet is from Barbados
The magic is swinging eerily in her eyes!
JUDGE: “Whatever it is…the woman it is!”
Abigail, stop twitching in your sleep!
Again, she is having nightmares, Judge!
Another wears pointed shoes, she is Edwardian.
She’s The Queen of spades with a high hat
“You do not have a husband! Who delivereth you? The devil! ”
The executioner and the victim“
“She does not deserve to live!”
The third was my mistress.
Stingy with words.
Goddamn my black blood
In the ludus!
Startled by a witch!
Back into the darkness!
“Go away, you’re dead!
She’s dead! ”
So I died.
Tomorrow I’m going to die
Tomorrow is going to die
Love will die
Between empty hands
(The absence between hands)
Eyes are for blindness .. a daily basis
I will be rooted deep like an oak
I will be that gentle, sweet sonnet
I no longer dream of poppies in wheat
Yes, I, A Witch in Salem’s village,
I listen to someone else’s breath inside me.
I burn in the fire and
The trial continues uninterrupted.
My ashes descend.