Albina

I find her at dawn as the sun rises over
the wheat fields, shimmering like gold.
She is prancing through rows—her feet
barely touching the ground. Her dark hair
flows behind her, a stream her white sow
follows. I run after her, tell her I have 
finally come to accept my fortune.

The Goddess of Day-break,
protecting ill-fated lovers,
how many star crossed have you
protected from the flames of destruction?

I have read the cards, cast runes,
clarity is elusive—like stones
pulling me down into the depths of the sea,
my inamorato has tied these weights
to my ankles while he flounders in the foam. 

Teach me how to swim to shore. Show him
how to float to land. Even if we find safety
on opposite sides of the Terrhynian.

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Marisa is a poet, bruja, spirit companion, and contributing writer for Pussy Magic.

Growing up in the Southwest influenced her magickal practices, and she considers herself a kitchen witch. In her free time, she enjoys reading about the Fae Folk, scandals in Old Hollywood, and the spirits of the sea. She is obsessed with kitschy motels in the desert, mermaids, vampires, and pinups. In her twenties she attended UEA in England, and misses being able to sit in pubs, people watch, and write.

You can find her on Instagram, Tumblr, and Twitter @thesweetmaris.