grisly witch pits

I was once the snake woman

the only person, it seems, in the whole place

who wasn’t terrified of them

I used to hunt with two sticks

among milkweed and under porches and logs

for this vein of cool green metal

which would run through my fingers like mercury

or turn to a raw bracelet

gripping my wrist:

I could follow them by their odor

a sick smell, acid, and glandular

part skunk, part inside

of a torn stomach,

the smell of their fear

from Snake Woman by Margaret Atwood