Candyman: Four Mirrors
say his name into the glass until the glass learns yours.
each repetition sweetens the throat; every vowel grows a stinger.
the face behind your face leans closer, wearing honey like armor.
a city block becomes a hive; rumor is the queen.
bees carry syllables between doors; sugar turns to proof.
every apartment buzzes with a borrowed prophecy.
the hook is grammar; it edits you to the bone.
honey is law; it binds what it blesses, then devours the binding.
touch the wound: it speaks in hexagons.
urban myth is an economy of witnesses.
we tithe our fear to purchase a miracle of blame.
say it again—& watch the mirror spend you.