by Sophia Carroll

I take it in turns, governess
& ungovernable.

Woman who fears knife-shine laughter,
& witch who descends from the attic.

Voice calling over the moors
& the one who answers it.

There is a hex in my blood,
& a trail of smoke from my pale hands.

Care is imprisonment
& I have learned to escape it.

Shut me in your skull-house
& I will burn it.

Sophia Carroll (she/they) is an analytical chemist and writer. Her work appears or is forthcoming in SmokeLong Quarterly, wildness, and elsewhere. She is also the co-founder of M E N A C E magazine. Find her on Substack at torporchamber.substack.com and on Bluesky @torpor-chamber.bsky.social.