11/28/2020 who is your witchwho is your witch?
where did you find her? is her shop the one on Calhoun, or the one next to the market? you know the one nestled on the side of an ancient brick road, magnolia bushes and carolina jasmine consuming the front door. is she on the corner or Wentworth and Meeting? I might have passed her once or twice. I’m not doubtful that you’ve been, I see she keeps traces of salt around the doorway and it reeked of burnt rosemary and sage last time I walked by. is her place South of Broad? or North? is she hidden on a backstreet? close to the college? I have sisters all over the city, I’m sure i'll know soon. southern magic is something like a coven. don’t get me wrong--im the furthest thing from a belle, but my craft sprouted right under the angel oaks and expanded far past rainbow row and down to the shores on Folly. it bloomed on the corner of King and Queen and keeps growing, reaching for the Charleston sun. is my name trapped in a bottle somewhere? written three times and resting in rose petals? is it buried in quartz and pink salt? sealed with red candle wax? I’ve been hearing you in my dreams “so mote it be, so mote it be so mote it be” you chant over and over like a ritual for sleep. is that why your name keeps creeping up my throat, threatening to be heard? its burning my tongue and drowning my lungs, I’m choking on your name as if you are physically trying to leave my body. what kind of spell did you put over me? I’m dizzy from sage smoke, sleeping with obsidian, stuffing my pockets with amethyst, but you are with me still. what do you want from me? Comments are closed.
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