A Tale, in Which My Tongue Casts a Spell


My tongue is a scarlet witch tucked

deep between misanthropic lips. I

beg the hag for an incantation, a

love spell presenting the match that

will burn my faults like tinder.


My offer is gold

Her acceptance is teeth


Each word pronounced deliberately,

vowels rolled out like plush red carpet.

But without the support of bone, my

jaw is shapeless and luckless. Fledgling

flames stutter and collapse.


My cackling tongue caves in on itself

Magic is there, but so is sabotage


You can also find this poem here