a bit of thread, black
tied tight around this
Hathorne1poppet who cares
not enough to know my
name, but removes me
from the world, all the same.
Continue reading ““A Hex On All Your Houses” A Poem by Juliette van der Molen”
The Baptism
Sister sings contrition, ripe to believe
in prophet palms, fey fingers. Submission
to a Patriarch plunge— yield and receive.
White out winter, naked lips and eyes. Leave
past sorrows traded for superstition.
Sister sings contrition, ripe to believe. Continue reading “The Baptism – Juliette van der Molen”
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 