I wrote you a letter
and was so scared
it might not reach you
in time
that I put
all my stamps
on it.
I had this feeling
it might be last one.
I ripped out
two photographs
that had been sleeping
inside an album
because I needed
to see them
and pass them on
to you.
I was walking
through rain
and streets emptied
by this plague
to send the letter
on its way.
Hoping
It was not
too late.
„Please don‘t let this be the last time“, I whisper to my witch, both of us not able to seek shelter from the rain inside our home, but searching the sky for a hole in the clouds.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 
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