Erica Jong - Her Broom, Or the Ride of the Witch lyrics

My broom with its tufts of roses beckoning at the black, with its crown of thistles, prickling the sky, with its carved crescents winking silverly at Diana, with its thick brush of peaco*k feathers sweeping the night, with its triangle of glinting fur. I ride over the roofs of doom. I ride while he thinks me safe in our bed. My forehead he thinks that scraggly other broom, my hips that staff, my s** that stump of blackthorn & of twine. Ah, I will ride over the skies- orange as apricots