Covetous November

By Misti Rainwater-Lites

Covetous November

I want the moon’s blank immunity
the night’s crisp immensity
the easiness of the shadows
how they fall and splay
without a thought.

I desire the deep sleep of the dead
a slumber without itchy dreams
no lotion can soothe.

I am a witch
endlessly burning.
Every day is at stake.
Every second a stake
in my raw hamburger heart.

I bleat for blessings,
beseech the God of the Howling Wind
for some solid
to stand on.
The candy skulls on the altar
mock me in their sugar and sequins
as the crimson candles glow.
No one is eating
my offerings.