Witchlings
Naked witchlings rooted in my head
While the sun was sleeping under my bed
Counting their fingers, scribbling spells
Burning candles, ringing bells
Killing cats and gutting rats
Reading runes and epithets
Did I say they were naked
There is that....
they've been a thousand lifetimes getting here
I'll give them a thousand more
To get out of my hair
D.C. Jordan
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