Sympathetic Magic; Deconstructed Woman by Dana Knott

Sympathetic Magic

I rest my head on a dream
pillow scented with lavender
to prevent sleep paralysis.

I place a silver knife beneath
to sever nightmarish thoughts
that hang like starry spiders.

I line windowsills and sashes
with garlic cloves to ward off
harmful creatures.

I string together words to charm
my inner demons with magic
nouns and nonsense sentences.

Informator choristarum,
dulciloquent and lapis lazuli,
sunstrike, ice bolt, stupor mundi.

I bind the murdermongeress
with the devil’s shoelaces
and burn her pornographic stories.

I am not the witch to light
the pyre or fan the red-hot flames.
I am protector, preventer, and enchanter.

A lexicographer magician, I define
symbols and create sympathetic links.
I am the witch in the well who refuses to sink.

Deconstructed Woman

She strips herself down every night
to the truth of her eyes and lips.

She is more than a pair of tits
and a rounded doorway to paradise.

She is a whole body,
a whole mind, a whole soul.

She is a protector in need of protection,
a girl on a hunger strike,

a hungry woman with unhealthy appetites,
dirty and clean at the same time.

She is a witch when she floats,
a saint when she sinks,

The Sphinx when she speaks
in riddles like a candle that sparks

a charm to coax the flame.
She is a woman with a red heart

and a bloody, bloody womb.

Dana Knott (she/her) has recent publications in Dust Poetry Magazine, Eunoia Review, York Literary Review, and Musing Publications. She enjoys the company of her favorite two humans, one dog, and three cats. Dana works as a library director in Ohio and is the editor of tiny wren lit, which publishes micro-poetry. Twitter: @dana_a_knott