A witch’s resignation

You might say that I am getting older;
That I will get old.
I have always felt old, and I am done.

I will say that lines
will take shape around the curves of my face
To warn people I have done too much...
Cared too much

And you may say I'm getting bolder;
That I have gotten bold.
I have not been bold enough, young man!

I will say that my nerves
Have recoiled from the surface,
Retreated to a deep space
for the brave to discover,
With backhoes

You may say that I have grown colder, 
that I am getting cold. 
I have no want of coldness, save for sweet death
I will say that I would die to feel a little warmth
And I would not mind
If you'd just burn me at
The stake
Published in: on February 7, 2018 at 12:44 am  Leave a Comment  


someday this rock will blow!
and a spec of me will fall like snow 
Onto the moon

gravity unconfined, we'll joyride
through seas of galaxies
far and wide 
Me and the moon
off-balance and untethered 
devoid of day, devoid of weather 
Until I fall off of the moon
knobby asteroids and space trash
warming me with their shrapnel crash
I float-nap on the moon

my tears initiate and hover 
the blast shatters light like kaleidoscope lovers  
Blow-up the hurling stone moon
Published in: on February 6, 2018 at 11:59 pm  Leave a Comment  
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