Blood Curse

Sing, red-hearted women! Circle the black
cauldron while curses fill the moon, seduce
the sun; let it rest sweating in your sheets.

Bind the magic with waterfall tresses,
cast a spell with herbs to take out the fat –
all that’s messy can be turned to beauty.

And remember: to bleed is not to die.
You burst through from blood and must live
in it. Dance now with your coming daughters.

Zoe Mitchell is a poet living and working on the South Coast of England. She has an MA from the University of Chichester and has been published in a range of literary magazines and the Chalk Poets Anthology of poems commissioned as a celebration of the South Downs. http://www.writingbyzoe.com