Magick

We are all made witches through our Otherness
An inability to conform to the patriarchal propaganda
Which denies the power woven by femme fingers, queer tongues,
and rippling across skin a hundred shades of not-white

We are the descendants of the ones you did not burn
And with every tarot card pulled
With every candle lit
A curse on your hegemony,
A hex on your kingdoms,
Your empires to ruin

We are rising in a wave
Drawn up by Mother Moon
And when it breaks, then you will know
Why they feared us in centuries before

Photography by Edward Curley

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