I wake up to a bunch of witches
at my door, cooing,
green eyed and velvet
lipped,vying for my
one open eye
like I’m some patch picked
prize of theirs.

i remember the agreement.

  1. do not ask to see your own death.
    2. do not ask to see the death of your mother.
    3. trust the witch (which witch, pumpkin?)

amended:

4. the only men we (redacted) are fascists.

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