Witches’ Night

Don’t tease.
You know I melt
When your pen bleeds —
Trapped in the suspense
Between minstrels’ words —
The safest escape.

Imagination keeps
Draggin me ’round
And gettin me in trouble.
34 degrees —
I’m experimenting with
Windows down.
And the cold is clarity
But it sets my bad nerve
To twitching.

Tonight’s the night
We learn to feign strength.
Tonight’s the night
We hide within masks
And then shed all disguise
As the calendar burns.

It’s a good show
When you can rise up above it.
Pass me a beer,
And be careful what you say.
One wrong word
Might send the thing
Careening back to earth.

Some mornings,
All I can think are seeds.
But inertia lingers
Like a frost
In the low places.

So we paint our faces
And intentionally obscure
The truths that underlie
These confessions.
And on this witches’ night
It’s simple to hide
In plain sight,
When only the moon
Knows what’s real.


About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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