bodies

a child came in looking for the witches by roald dahl. it was checked out. 

that story is so much about bodies. costuming and concealing bodies. smelling bodies. shrinking bodies, changing their entire form to be that of another species. about the boy who can be lured into anything with sumptuous treats and his body that is implied to be a result and reflection of such pleasure of taste. about the witches who have no toes and no hair, who wear the dead objects we carry on and cover over parts of our bodies, to protect them from the elements or from sneers, shock, othering by others. 

gloves and wigs and boots and lipstick and make-up and coats and stockings and hats and glasses. 

the witches, not living in a world completely of by or for witches, benefit from blending in by wearing wigs over bald scalps and masks over ancient warty faces and gloves over claws and pointy heels on clubbed feet. but they have a true form. the audible relief and energetic release that sways and oozes through the ballroom when they are in private and can, among kin, show themselves, while the children find it repulsive, in adulthood i find myself happy for them, the witches and their witchy bodies.