Zero your scales to the burden of a lash, DearJustice, but let Tituba clumsy the Magistrates’minds with a wag of herrisk near forests of the Wampanoag where Christianssavaged Queen Weetamoo’s corpse, what else mightTituba, nonwhite and woman, haunt but a marginof error? She’s a catbird’s song trapped in the chimney.She’s egg whites in water, she is the tumescenceof smoke. Dear Mami Wata, let Tituba proveto be the stone that splits the stream of their vision.Let her renounce sight and be unseen. Let hercough ground coral in the shedding of a pewtermoon, that she, of all the innocents, should live.Dear Three-Headed Hecate, replace her, the unthoughtthought, with wax, twigs, horsehair, and straw. Let herappear neither as a witness nor as evidence. As withthe talking dog, let her be the hoodoo that speaksthrough their mirrors. Let a long-tailed avocado ghostthe floorboards tempting a red cat—his familiars,the devil and his counsel, the canary. Let her conjurethe man in black they fear who charms pilgrimson the road to paradise disguised as a harmlessbird-watcher. Dear Nemesis, let her feed the courta few names from his register—a taste of hertruth, her mise en abyme, her one hell that calls forthanother. With no standing on her own behalf,let her sit in judgment. Let this powerinvested of gavel and oath help her give birththrough her mouth like a god.
Occult
Jun 14, 2022
1 minute
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