i'm encircled by jo's, lots of them, all witches, closing in, or out. it's hard to tell sometimes, they move on strange currents and it's hard to keep up with diserning one from the other, it could be a coven of jo's all beguling me, bewildering me with soft female witchy type ways, enchanting the only man left standing. 
they come in all sorts of various guises, all the same woman, all the same name at a root connection. jo.

the jo jujju does its stuff, i'm in a haze of soft feminine power, although some has a harder edge. my sence of disipline weakens. 

i assess my position in time and space, full moon, a huge great big one, the big one is immenent, i'm manifesting a coven where i really only want one. i met her a few nights ago and she is my favorite witch, soft yet strong, immaculate face of nordic beauty, eyes like a wolf, teeth like cold perfect glaciers. the air that breezes out from her mouth is cool and pristine. i don't know how that happens, but it happens. a meeting of minds, she has an impressive one. she's my witch, intuition knows best, but am i her wizard. things start promising and fade out fast.

and what seems like years was days, what could have been a lifetime passes like an eon, but they remain. no longer on pheripheries but closer, more powerful and things then get surreal when an old friend from switzerland now living in new zealand contacts me after 25 years and proclaims she is a witch. more about her later, but there's only one jo for me and she disappaites into the ether, a shadow amongst shadows. 'but you are my favourite witch,' i cry to the radient full moon, and then i remember magick and love, so i must wait for love in the magickal realms, wait for love to find me. wait for my favourite witch.