Every Halloween we were witches.

My face green.

Her fake nose hooking down to her lips.

But this year

Her cape is lined with red.

When she smiles

Her fangs glint in the street lamps.

 

I turn my wand on her.

“I’ll make you a rat.”

 

She holds her hands up.

“You can be like me too.”

“Why would I want that?”

“You’re jealous.”

 

I lower my wand

And offer my wrist.

Her teeth bite

Harder than necessary.

“Welcome to the club.”

Poetry

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *