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Welcome, guest, your quiet moves
Have been heard.
Come and rest while I improve
My crackling hearth.

Freely kneeled, I’ll show you how
Fires soar,
Embers yield and speak their vow.
Wondrous chore!

I’m the Mistress, you’re the guest,
Lost and tired.
Let me comfort your request
As desired.

From the black-eyed witch’s throne
I do see
How you’re roaming here alone,
Watching me.

Closer, darling, rosy cheeks,
Curious eyes.
Younger years, months and weeks
In demise.

I shall pluck your rosy glow
Like a bud,
Grind it with the palest snow
To silver mud.

Grind your heart, make you a witch,
Make you bleed
To the Moon’s sagacious wish.
All you need.

No? Then roam these terrains
Like a ghost.
Follow our entwined black flames
To the coast.

Our black masks and ribbons glide
“WM”.
Every time the Moon’s in sight,
Here I am.

Rosy matters rest in vain,
Feed the earth.
Charms live on in silver chains
And crackling hearth.