Cauldron Anthology's second issue! We are so grateful to everyone who contributed! 
And as the founder I am so thankful for all the help from my team, especially our new art editor who put together our first PDF version of the magazine!  You can find the issue here.

​i. when you kiss her,
you are kissing lips
that sing grief
to the sea
like a child
echoing back
a mother’s lullaby.
this is not a kiss
for those
who do not know
what it means
to lose.


ii. when her sisters
rise up
from beneath the waves
to sing your name
and beckon you
with shimmering bony fingers,
there is always
the chance
she will not come
to save you
from those snapping
shark-like
jaws.


iii. when you see her weep
for the first time,
you will remember
why they whispered
to stay away
from sirens.
you will understand
why love
is an instrument
of war.


HOW TO LOVE A SIREN


(FOR MORTAL LOVERS
WITH SO MUCH TO LOSE.)

        and the waters
flowed around his
beard

unshaven and
        unpredictable

he caught my eye,
though, he was my
seducing bait

the tangles of my
hair started to unravel

naked and
            exposed

the froth of the waves
spat around the cracks
of my toes

his footprints deepened
in the sand, and imprinted
onto my bosomed chest

devouring my
       inhibitions

I wanted to taste the
joys and wonders of
temptation

the salt spread across
my tongue, suckling to
my taste buds

fears and
             desires

my song had rescued
his lonesome and ageing
heart

the chorus revitalised his
yearning for a climaxing
passion

he kissed my impulses in
sync to the rhythms that
played. ​

my soul is one of song
prose and poetry
dance in my heart and mind
both,
and you were my favorite
song for a time;
but you always spurned my sexual
advances unless you were
in the mood
too--
once you told me that i was
a succubus,
but i have always been a siren because
music and water touch every point
of my soul;
i wanted you to be my heart's duet
the melody in me that
never died--
i wanted you fully as i gave myself
fully to you,
but i was always told that i was too
driven and too focused upon
my sexual appetites
that i should pray for redemption;
but why should i be
shamed for feeling the same way you did
for me?
i suppose it's because i'm a woman
that i should want to be
something innocent and pure,
but i have always been a shade of grey;
honesty, love, and light with a thousand flaws
yet beautiful in my own way.

Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. Recently she had two chapbooks published, A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013) and Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014). Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic was published in March 2015. The second novel of this series, Dragons & Magic, was published in October 2015, and the third, Centaurs & Magic, was published November 2016.

​Social media links:
Instagram, Twitter, Facebook . 

It looks like the powder they put on the top of glazed donuts
But it is more like the rat poison you find in a box.
It calls to me like a siren song
And I find a five dollar bill between my fingers, rolling itself up into a cylinder.
It’s crushed and ready, waiting in three perfectly straight lines
So I lean over, placing my pink cylinder just inside my nose.
It finds its way inside me quickly, until there’s nothing left but dust
Which I wipe up with my finger and rub against my teeth.
It doesn’t even have a taste, I’m so far gone
My siren is quiet, her song answered.
It doesn’t fill me with the feeling that it used to
I’m numb to almost everything now.
It’s killing me, I think
And I don’t know if I care.
It is the only thing in the world for me
My siren and I.
It might be the death of me
But it’s saved me so many times I find it hard to condemn it.
It whispers as I drift off to sleep
Come find me when you wake.​

​Chiara Sullivan is a voracious reader who spends far too much time wandering the well worn paths of her imagination. At any given time you can find her blogging here or here, tweeting, andinstagramming. Her work has been previously published on The Regal Fox.

​Callum McLaughlin is a passionate bookworm, crazy-cat-person in training, and freelance writer based in Scotland. If he isn’t writing his own works of fiction and poetry, he will most likely be found reading someone else’s.

Blog: https://callummclaughlin.wordpress.com/ 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Callum_M1

​i always wanted you to
draw nearer
to allow my desires to wash
over you,
but it was always what
you wanted;
heaven forbid i should want you
because that was strange or exasperating
yet you could want me
whenever you so 
pleased--
my desires and my needs were left
unmet and so i became the succubus or siren
that always taunted you with my
song,
but i see nothing wrong
with admitting i wanted you and wanting your
body upon my body shouldn't have been
such a big deal if you were honest
with yourself 
i think you'd see the way you treated me
was wrong--
i don't understand why a man can be an imp
without insult, 
but a woman must always remain "pure" 
with only thoughts of virtue
she cannot house any sexual appetites of her own.