It’s Aunt Harriet. Are You There?

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

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?