Writing to you is like witchcraft

Writing to you is like witchcraft
I usually barely make of the ingredients I use, a complete pot

I throw little parts into the mix
without realizing how potentially damaging I am becoming

one day there's a complete drought
like one promised seven good years and seven bad ones

another there's a flood of smoke, smells
uncontrollable fumes to linking my destiny to yours

it seems careless, this disposition
to the many attempts I am making

at failing to make comprehensible, a sentence
without shortlisting any bias I might have for you

this is the effort I put into my words to you
seemingly surfaced with honey, glazed with potion

when did I become a witch?

was not wizardry an act for the brave
the cowards like me have to wait

for the right time to brew what was kept
bitter in jars not ours, yet used and borrowed

like my writing to you, these days
pinched and quick, without an origin or an explanation

save these old tears that needed using,
save this old pen that doesn't write any more
save fatigue, my writing to you is like witchcraft
we both don't understand it but we wait patiently for the result.