I fear I’ll go soft
when I catch what I chase
so I hedgehog my heart

stay super busy
while tentacles delve its cracks
trained to read threats all day

my hands are soft
on the eggs they crack
soon the moon will be new and gone

my witch writes my whole back
in a twist her tempo
my measure my homebody frantic

her space her hunger
left nest in my birdbrain
my witch my panic

my crackle from tissue
this perch on a roof
old claws and birdface

I swallow my question
the stone in my throat
speaks in relief

Last week we were roots

This week wires

Electricity travels the shapes we fumble

Always getting ready

Always setting something down

Always a new lesson

In our always interleaving

Even the villainy in me

Waits

My timeline broke off on the way to the clearing

I wait to say

And what if it wasn’t scary to see ghosts?

I say nothing

We are witches in a room built around a tree

A choir for a moment

Grows

Teems in our spaces

Each real moment

One of so many imaginary