Burn,
Baby burn.
I know what you see
Upon this pyre.
A woman with gnarled hands.
But they are twisted from fighting your fears.
They can (and do) heal, these hands.
A woman with the devil’s mark.
But when you feel desire, it becomes a beauty spot
Upon my face.
A woman with a hooked nose.
But it’s bent from smelling dishonesty and lust.
It is strong, this nose.
I know what you see
As you stoke the furnace beneath me.
When you feel tempted, I am beautiful.
When you feel cursed, I am a hag.
When you need curing, I am powerful.
When you need a scapegoat, I am first.
If I were not a woman, I would be
Wise, cunning, a doctor no less.
But I am harmful, full of hexes and you
Hunt me, hunt me, hunt me.
So, I burn,
Baby burn.
Yet when I feel the flicker of flames,
You better believe you’ll feel them too.
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