Witchy Poo

You are my little witchy poo

Sweet dahling

All dressed in black

With a line running up the back

Of your long coal stockings.

You are my witchy poo

Tilted over your couldron afire

Mixing spells

Speaking incantations

Drafting a potion

A brew

Powerfully intoxicating

In the candlelight

While little devils dance at your feet. .

I am but a fly

Caught in your web

A willing subject

To your whim and fancy

As kettles boil

And charms and hexes

Are conjured

On this cold October night.

I succumb

To black dresses

And undergarments

Your ebony eyes and hair

As inky as your pointed shoes.

I am but a dark cat

In the corner

Keeping warm

Until you beckon me over

With a seducing finger

“Pssst pssst”

And I am there rubbing

Up against

Your sexy witch legs

Just above your ankles

Purring.

You are my little witchy poo

Dahling

And your sorcery

And conjuring

Are a work of art.

I love to come up behind you

And squeeze you to my body

As you cook your magic formulas

Hot steamy bliss bubbling up

To our faces.

To be spellbound

In your bedsheets

As the dark closes in

On dancing forms

Made of shadows

Cast from candles

Dripping wax

Until at last

The final flame

Sputters

And surrenders

To the chill.

My witchy poo kills me at night

In a phospherescent web

And eats me like a spider

And I give myself wholly

Devoted only to you.