They’ll tell you that the gods have spoken
Every night you’ll have a spiritual bath,
Dance in the village square with blood around your wrists,
Make a brand new incision by the old scar
Close to your left breast,
They’ll tell you to give them a son,
And once again you’ll lose him in a pool of
Maybe it’s time to fly like the witch they once
Run, set yourself free.
Temmie Ovwasa c 2016
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