A hair.
A hessian doll.
An ancestral power,
Chaotic, destructive,
Immortal.
The power, harnessed by mortal hands,
Summoned by the weak of body,
The strong of spirit.
The power of creation
Turned to destruction.
Through smoky prayer,
Disjointed, spasmodic dancing
And eat-your-neighbour's-heart-out rituals,
Two bodies merge;
Connecting flesh to hessian,
Soul to stuffing,
Pains to pins.
A link on a different plain
Pulls together the world of life
And death.
The power to control,
Contort,
Extort.
That power in hand
Shall be the destruction of you.
A twisted arm, a broken arm;
A burnt doll foot, a searing blister.
Pins, knives, all stabbed through your likeness,
Open flesh, producing pain from empty air.
The power to make one love,
Or hate.
The control of your life in my hands.
There is no escape.
This is my power now,
My control-
An extension of my love for you.
I have your life in my hand,
Your body in exchange for your likeness.
Together we will finally be.
Together...
You, me and
Our voodoo hearts.
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