[Cherie Priest]
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my christabel

 [Cherie]
bubble bubble toil and lord, such trouble to bathe a child so small
this little witch is slick with soap and smiles
ree ree, she calls me, knows it isn't right
but she sings it like a rune
(she already knows the magic of names)
i like her small spells. here's one of my own:
i anoint you now with slimy, yellow baby shampoo
because, darling, i have no sacred oils
my precious cannot yet count her wiggling toes
but this girl sorceress can beg kittens from high trees
coax the nervous songbirds to peck from her palm

i rinse her hair with the mickey mouse cup she cannot live without
and wrap her squirming body with a towel big enough to be buried in
she shakes it away
runs a circle 'round me thrice
and flees giggling down the hall unencumbered by clothes
or fears or the shame of eve that required covering
she has inherited some of these legacies
and she will learn the rest in time

in paranoia i warn her fingers
away from matches
she covers her lips and winks before turning
away from me

i gave her the gold-foil wishing stars i bought
at a novelty shop in a mall
i told her to use them wisely
you might be surprised at how much she understands
closing her eyes, she pinches one of the sharp, bright bits
and tosses it over her shoulder with a flourish
then she wraps her arms around my neck
and tangles her hands in my hair

our coven is one of blood
we are kin of flesh and spirit
and we do not submit to fire
together we pray and light our candles
we plot and pretend

tonight
when our mothers go to bed
we will sneak to the television and entrance ourselves
with bugs bunny and captain crunch
our rituals are not complex but
this communion is more profound than church

i will pull her nodding head to my chest
and hum the oldest songs i know until she falls asleep

copyright, C.M. Priest