TO BIND TO FINISH

A Binding, Darker Wrought

By blood unshed and bone unbroke,

By the black hour when no cock hath spoke,

I bind thee, shadow, in thy own coil,

I bind thee, serpent, in thy own soil.

Let thy tongue turn to ash in thy mouth,

Let thy compass forget the north and the south,

Let every door thou wouldst enter be wall,

Let every hand thou wouldst raise, wear a pall.

By the worm that turns beneath the stone,

By the crow that picks the field alone,

I call the dark to eat the dark in thee,

I call the rot to catch what tries to flee.

Thy name I do not speak, nor need I speak it —

The binding knows its mark, and shall not break it.

Let thy nights be long and thy mornings thin,

Let the thing thou art be caged within.

Not death I ask, but stillness absolute,

Not blood, but silence at the very root.

So let it stand, unblessed, unbroke, unspoken —

Sealed till the seal itself lies broken.

_______________________________

A Ward for Myself

Now round mine own head I draw the ring,

Round mine own heart, a guarded thing.

No shade returning, no third fold cast,

Shall cross this line, or hold, or last.

What I have loosed, I loose alone —

It walks not back to flesh or bone.

No third fold turns to touch this head, this heart,

So sealed, so held, so mine to keep.

________________________________

The Making of the Water

Sage laid in, and sulfurs too,

Salt and smoke to season through,

Flowers from my grave, unmourned,

Candles spent, their banishing done,

Drawn at midnight, witching hour,

All given to the element.

Red string wound about the bowl,

Red string binding, red string whole,

Water taking what is placed,

Nothing wasted, nothing chased.

One drop only, given last,

Drawn from hours of drawing past,

Falls into the water still —

Blood to close what is my will.

So the water holds it all,

So the working does not fall,

Sealed by hand and sealed by art,

Sealed by what came from my part.

Marni Fraser

2026

Ⅻ · ○○

Self 2026