by Rose Lemberg

Darja’s husband stood in the doorway, his bulk a blackness of smoke-smelling furs that obstructed the way back into the warmth. For three years the log-house had been her home, but now the starving wind slashed her, the snow choked her, the heart-heavy dusk smothered her face.

Darja smelled the teeth rotting in her husband’s mouth, dripping poison down his tongue. “Take your whelp and bury it in snow.”

Filed under: Jabberwocky 6

by Alexandra Seidel

Swipe me away with a broom
like dirt
this would suit your nature I suppose
as you are a witch
—did you really think that you could hide it?

Filed under: Jabberwocky 6

by D. Elizabeth Wasden

At twelve, I swallow my mother's soul. She has prepared me for the act, but my father turns away. She teaches me how to swallow other souls and how to change men and women into magic for my own purposes. I have worn her soul like a chain necklace, each link a lesson, every lesson a day. I have swallowed other souls to preserve hers.

Filed under: Jabberwocky 6

by Holly Appling

I am in love with a magician —

He comes home near midnight

& relaxes, undoes his slanted

Tuxedo shirt buttons, his body
Is always here & gone, the
Voice hangs in corners like bats —

Filed under: Jabberwocky 6