Witches Dwell

Witches dwell

In my up turned palms

Constellations sewn in threads from dark ribboned DNA

Birthed the Earth foundation of hands and fingers small and real

Bearing engraved spider webs and the prints their legs etched in the webbing

Spun tightly to my ever morphing palms

While residing in ripening womb

And hypnotic whorls that slither in the vellumous pulp

That know cold comfort in the grip of the dead

All who seek companionship and truths

On nights beyond reach of the All Hallows’ call

They know me as neighbor

And they bring me secrets from dual realms

Where phantoms dwell

E.A. O'Connell