They say that we enchant.
I know she enchants me
With those eyes
Wise eyes of tree bark
Entwined with poison ivy.

They chant “dark magic”
But we scream love.
Potions of waning leaves,
And witching hour kisses
Under withering stars.

They point paranoid fingers
As we twist each-others matted braids.
We conjure intoxicating romance
And command the roots, the buds,
To scatter wreaths across our hearts.

They grab their pitchforks
As we lie in beds of sanguine sage,
Heal our rosemary love.

Vials of hydrangea at our door
Dye our clothes the colours
They want to drown us.

They won’t see us leave
Flying under violet skies
Together and free.
Hunt us not,
Those who do not grasp

Our ember love.

By Molly Knox.