"Transformation of the Rule-Broken", patron poem
All those years in water, now when wet
I'm wood-grained. I came out
dark swirled, flesh shivered off -
but only a skin that didn't fit.
What else is witchcraft?
Sweat like burnt coffee. Hair.
Speaking in a voice not your own;
until it is, until you have become.
Flesh becomes timber.
Crow becomes bear.
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Photo credit: cropped from flickr user funeralbell
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