All the world pulses through your branches as these arms dangle at my side, the darkness of my heart transpires as a sap at the taproot of time and you say it was a crime, to gather out there under the moonlight,
a crime to prevent the fertilization of a flower, but is it not more criminal to be the bee who takes what’s sweet from the center, and murders any dissenter who dares to gain authority over her own nature?
You say I must hang here because this rope is tied by ignorance masked as divine providence and power, and if I should speak three words in sequence as I turn my foot in the center of a circle, time might forge forward and spare me the pain of losing my vision to the black spider of your accusation, but instead I refuse to speak, while your web keeps its promise of something more merciful than God
I am as free as the morning breath which escapes the bird who circles her nest within the shell of earth, where wind is as guilty as Satan, deciding the fate of her feathered brethren.
I am as pure as a thousand virgins who open their legs and invite strangers in to explore heaven, if you should enter me, you may understand the secret to eternal life, and by entering me, you will attempt to escape death, but instead, you will invite her into being as perpetually as the moon bleeds light over the ocean.
You are only as strong as my plasma, you are as uncertain as a cycle whose rhythm I have neglected to track, as vulnerable as a blood clot in a den of wolves, and knowing this makes you seek redemption, makes you feign all that’s sacred in the heart of a woman, so go on and light the match, you can’t burn life out of the forest, she is a Phoenix, she is the alpha witch, which you can never burn, and as fiercely certain as Salem’s sisters, she will return.