shadows stained with graffiti,
a journey to the witch’s hut,
The doors were open,
he, in the back, gave a smile of understanding,
I walked in marveling,
handsome creatures they were – silken scarves,
they smirked of course knowing too much.
“Sit down here” – gothshe said closing the door behind,
“Only the truth – nothing but it”,
so there I surrendered,
“Fire you are, Disciplined, Solo”
“Second, a master of intuition – let that be your compass”
“Third, those that leave felt belittled by the strength and energy”
What else did the cards say?
“Forget this draw, before I saw ambition in your footsteps. Endless wealth.”
“Beware though of 1-2 who suck the energy and light of you”
Who are you. 44 with experience. Viewer of the new moon. A history of lovers.
I left the cook cranny,
as I walked past the interracial friends with nose rings, both with a calm demeanor,
I couldn’t help but wonder –
That was a raw experience, but only a game of stronger intuition.
Rich was Brooklyn in its experiences.
I walked onto the dim streets,
and took the late night subway home.