The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 4 | Page 25

20

Witchpull

how to keep your waterglow?

I can tell, you haven't seen the asylum waiting to burn

it is true; a group of teens filled

an abandoned swimming pool with coins

and pearls, hard candy and oxycodone

a miracle one crawled out alive

but you admit you fear being bottled in an apocalypse

how do you feel about omnipotent

ancestors, glued to your lashes, their buttery

tinctures dripping on your belly button?

don't say I didn't warn you about floating skyward

all you'll find is a church with a giant

silver cross, pinned next to a doll club

I can also tell you've never drank in and spat

on a stranger's marriage, or aligned torment with seduction

hung-over on an unmade bed, buying yourself

the eerie flatness of attachment

waterglow is limitless, you see, but blood can never be

reach down to your ankles, notice the cracking and

reconnecting of bones

their old / new obsessions to connect

and re-connect

there is beauty in vanishing waters too, but

are you sure evaporating is what you want?

so then, unfry your silver smoke, sometimes we just color

ourselves static in pretend heroism