Sometimes I imagine
These stories
Possessing you
From under a planchette’s eye;
Your magical curiosity reads
And leads you to replays
of your repeated mistakes
Through several reverands.
And doors slam
And tables turn
And water breaks.
And my stomach churns

fromaknot
to a why not

As I realize
They’re consuming me,
And maybe only me?

Don’t we know how dangerous it is
To toy with the living?