Salem (a poem)

I’ve spent centuries obsessed with evil

fingers bleeding from scrawling in notebooks,

searching for ways to banish it

to deep corners of space

away from us

where it takes souls,

twists them in black sorcery –

I wake up in Salem, trembling

witches burn, the smell of scalding flesh

the executioner removes his mask,

smiles – I fall into deep sleep

(Photo by Vladimir Agafonkin on Unsplash)

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