You could have been just another maggot
Squirming over history’s roadkill.
Instead, a witch took pity on you, lucky fellow,
Made you say abracadabra, and much else
You didn’t understand
While you held onto the hem of her skirt.
You know neither the place nor the hour
Of our transfiguration.
A kitten lapping a drop of milk
Fallen from the Blessed Virgin’s breast
In a church at dawn. That’s how it felt:
The two of you kneeling there.
Outside, there was a flash of lightning
Like a tongue passing over a bloody knife,
But you were safe.
Hexed once and for all in her open arms,
Giddy and tickled pink with her sorcery.