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# Poem of the Week: The Witch’s Bargain
- URL: https://www.lorelorn.com/poem-of-the-week-the-witchs-bargain/
- Published: 2026-10-08T00:02:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-31T00:03:18.000Z
- Author: The Commonplace
- Tags: Poetry, Jane Echioda, #contributor

She didn’t want your name. She wanted the heat   
in your chest, the one that burns when you lie to   
your wife about where you were and why your   
hands are shaking.

Meet her at the crossroads where the road to the   
church meets the road to the cemetery.   
Don’t bring flowers.   
Bring the debt you’re hiding in your pocket.

She’s older than the dirt, you know this. Her skin  
is the color of wet ash, her eyes are the green   
of pond water where things go to die.

  
She’ll ask for a kiss. Don’t pull away. Let her taste   
the whiskey and the guilt. Let her feel your heart   
hammering like a trapped bird.

  
In exchange, she’ll take the memory of the child   
you left behind in that field last August. You won’t dream   
of him anymore. You won’t wake up   
screaming his name into the dark.

  
But you’ll always be cold. A deep, bone-deep chill   
that no fire can touch. You’ll sit by your husband’s side   
and smile at his jokes and wonder why   
your teeth chatter in the summer heat.  

She’ll whisper, '*It is* done.' And you’ll walk home   
through the silent street, leaving your soul in the dirt   
between the graves, lighter than a feather,   
empty as a bell.

Don’t look back. If you look back, she’ll be standing   
there, smiling with too many teeth,   
waiting for the next payment.