To keep with the prompt, I decided to write about a bad witch, one that knows exactly what she wants and will do anything to get her desire.
The Witch
She held all of her luck in her body
in her belly and breasts
in her hands and teeth.
In her small shack, children found her
it was her luck that brought them to her
and it was her skill that made them stay.
She groomed them with love,
filled their thirsty throats with juice,
stuffed their bellies with potato and roast,
gave them a bed of their own to sleep in
tucked them in with stories woven with stealth.
Then she woke them on the full moon,
led them yawning and droopy eyed
into the lost woods and slit their throats.
Like spring chickens she hung them
from their feet to drain out their blood
into buckets beneath them.
At dawn, their bodies bled dry,
she heaved the buckets up
and trudged her way back home.
She shed her clothes and revealed her swell.
She rubbed their blood on her belly and breast;
her belly wide and taut with life.
Her child grew with every child she laid to rest
her belly grew and grew,
and after the last child killed and drained
her belly straining large beneath her dress,
she lay in her home and waited for the labor
the pain, all of the time endured
for her child of children to live.
Very disturbing. Very good.
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