sop paw

outside the sun ran yolk wild
across the fields. every cat 
arched her back to remind the mountains
of their slopes. what is your hunger
worth? mine spilling all over my life.
cream in a bucket. my knees arrived 
to my each night like melons.
aching with sugar & swell. 
i always knew i would be a witch.
caught the crows trying to tell me secrets.
my feline in a knot of rope & worry.
jumping from the roof. a flight 
of stolen dresses. you always think
"just one more trick" until your hand is
a great spider on the kitchen floor.
the farm boy screaming. my cat-self 
hurrying to become a blood river again.
when i first learned to transform 
i would have never tried something like this.
i used to just watch. watch my husband.
watch the fields. the barn. hunger 
is not a statue but a torrent of footfalls.
one after another & another until
you have eaten the roof off the house.
cradling the arm where my hand 
used to be. a new absence. what they will know.
how they will know it. i crawl into my room.
shut the door. stay up all night
in agony, wishing pain could
bring a limb back. a severing though
is a severing. i am finding 
there is no women here in me.
i am only a witch. soon they will come 
& find me. they will know. 

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