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Pledge Week

We, the Sorority of the Cloven-Hoofed Foot,
are looking for girls to join us!

We do no trust falls here, no
pillow fights and promise rings, we
are immaculately pedicured, so gifted
when we speak in tongues
and sour milk with glances; we
go out at any time of night,
unafraid.

You see, being a girl, any girl, is hard,
but being a Cloven-Hoofed girl’s an art,
we don’t do high heels, but boots,
they’re easier on the hoof, we
hide the horns under hairsprayed hair,
teased and twisted to our taste, we
keep the pitchfork at the ready,
hidden under chiffon and silk and softest cotton, oh, we
are hard to say no to.

But mind when we say no, oh,
you know, we say it with curses under our tongues,
fire in our eyes, sisters at our beckoning.

Most Cloven-Hoofed sisters go far in this world, you know,
lacing their words with hellfire, their thoughts
more burning than most, and of course
it takes a certain stamina
to walk with a foot like this one, walk
anywhere, walk
everywhere
and never stop until our hearts freeze over.

So. We are recruiting. Check yourselves, girls,
you got the horns, you got the hoof, you got the hellish tongue?
Come, join as you are, and for a pledge
burn any of the fakeness that they used
to hide the horns, the hoof, the devil tongue:
lashes, push-up bras, heels, smiles, words,
apologies, denials;
girls, come. As you are.

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