1 Poem by Allison Armstrong

07/27/2018

 

My Body is a Spell

 

My body is a spell

I cast on myself

a magic of muscle and bone

tendon and intention

rough and raw as moldavite

fresh dug from river basin

 

Magic isn’t always moonlight

salt circles

spill of menstrual blood and

still-warm egg

buried in turned earth

 

Magic is lying supine

one leg lifted

heel towards the ceiling

adductor tendon

twanging

under strain

 

Magic is my toes

becoming prayer beads

while my thighs tremble and

I gasp out affirmations

Repeat them

three times three

the magical number

I count on my outbreaths

forcing myself to slow down

breathe deep

relax into gravity’s cradle

 

Magic is the water on stone

process of sculpting

new truths of flesh and neurons

Teaching my body to trust

itself

teaching my brain to trust

anything at all

 

 



 

Allison Armstrong is a queer, polyamourous leather femme, a kitchen witch, and a Professional Naked Girl, living on unceded Algonquin territory in Ottawa. She has been published by Hyacinth Noir, Cuir & Queer press, Coven Editions, Bywords.ca, and Venus in Scorpio. Follow her on twitter @amazon_syren.

 

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