Gingerbread House Lit Mag

Séance Me Like One of Your French Girls


your touch is on my mind again
like pins under my fingernails.
I hope the figure you only see
out of the corner of your eye
is shaped like me,
or else like you imagine me
to be shaped.
I hope you wish the breath
you feel on your neck
at midnight
was me
pressed to your face
like the lid of a coffin.
My rib cage is aching for you,
splitting for you,
my ichor and bile
are for you.
Will you take this burnt offering?
Will you lay with me –
together, forever,
deeply asleep?
When the planchet
plucks at your veins,
pulls your fingers
to yes,
my darling,
do not resist.

Charlotte Vermue Peters

Charlotte Vermue Peters (she/her) is a Canadian writer searching for a genre; she has published poetry in The Mitre, The Maynard, and yolk, had original plays Oh Well and Muse performed in the New Plays Festival, and was a chairperson and editor for the 2018 Quebec Universities English Undergraduate Conference. Off the page, she can be found theatre-making and spoiling her cat.

Artwork: Abigail Larson, Summoning

This entry was published on October 31, 2022 at 12:10 am and is filed under 53 (October 2022), Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.
%d bloggers like this: