Witch•Hazel

You're a witch.

I'm a forest fairy

You're in a costume

I'm binding my wings under my skin.

***

I was walking away

From you

So I wasn't looking or ready for

The pressure of your palm

Of your oddly ungodly cold hand

Colder than my own, resting gently on the back of my neck.

Soft yet firm.

The place was crowded with active bodies in costume and music that was almost canceled out by the volume of voices and smoke that graciously gave everyone a grey-ish hue.

In a house full of fabricated ghost and ghouls you haunted me with phantom fingers.

Long like those of a banana spider settled atop my c7 vertebrae.

I'm arachnophobic but never have I ever been so calm under such an impression.

Nor have I been touched like that with hands colder than my own.

I know she was there,

The girl you came here with and ultimately still chose over me.

She was probably nearby

Maybe behind you

But did she see?

I am both eye candy and eye sore

I don't want to fuck you anymore

I do not.

You are a coincidence with arms legs lips and eyes that change colors.

Plucking at the tension between us like an out of tune guitar.

Pulling hair.

Singing in my ear...

Shh. Stop

I do I do not

Want to fuck you anymore.

I, I have this friend that's lost in the Devil's Triangle and I only know this because I am one of its corners and

I'd introduce you to him if you weren't another crook, or to her if she wasn't the other angle.

This same friend,

Who, for what's it worth, apologized

To me

For you

For how close you are to the man I've kissed only in my sleep.

I have this friend, who knows as well as you and I that you are not that man.

You're in a costume.