I should start a coffee shop coven; girls only, no boys allowed.
We could have themed aesthetic outfits:
Weekends black and gothic and macabre,
Tuesdays and Thursdays for whimsical floral dresses and sun-kissed skin.
Mondays and Wednesdays for battle armor and weapons of war.
Fancy Fridays for formal wear, also known as the
“I poisoned my second husband for his money” outfit.
We could gather and talk and plot and laugh and scheme and cry and debate.
We could meet at midday and dance in the sunlight,
Or meet at midnight and kiss under the full moon.
We’d trace sigils in our cappuccino cream with our spoons,
And build tiny replicas of the pyres they’ll burn us on with our wooden stir sticks.
By day we’d pick herbs and make men love us.
By night we’d have séances and kill our enemies.
By day the right hand, by night the left.
You need coffee for both; long days and long nights.
