You are my cosmic witch
with your mouth full of stars
& halos on your arms.
You wear bracelets
of the night, crests of the hidden moon phases
tied to rings & made them new again
on your fingers. You clak clak clak
as you walk. The sunlight stalks your movements
making you dwell in shadows. Not sick,
my cosmic witch. You light a fire
on your feet & your shoes fold up,
swapped out for flats, as fast as
the water disappears after rain.
Survive 
your storm. Make your house into music boxes
and live as though you won’t be burned.
Come down as a heretic. My witch,
you will learn to be modern in your days
& ancient by your nights. You will learn
how to hold your belief sudden in your
throat, stolen like bones, & float
beyond the stars.

[Evelyn deShane has appeared in Plenitude Magazine, The Rusty Toque, and is forthcoming in Tesseracts 19: Superhero Universe. Their chapbook, Mythology, was released in 2015 with The Steel Chisel. Evelyn (pronounced Eve-a-lyn) received an MA from Trent University and is currently studying for a PhD at Waterloo University. Visit them at: evedeshane.wordpress.com.]