Little Red

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(Originally posted to Tumblr on Nov 30, 2014)

The trees riot as wind chimes rattle their bones against the onslaught. That long, forceful howl. I could swear I heard a crunch, thick boots in packed snow, a broad silhouette—black on white, eyes shut tight against cold.

But my fire, it crackles, shooting sparks to maple floors and Persian rugs, thick beds of lanolin spread wall-to-wall. I writhe, wrapped loose in red gauze, as cedar moans.

You look frozen, traveler. Frost clinging to brown scruff, cheeks and lips chapped, fingers and toes numb to touch; eyes and mouth ravenous.

There’s bread on the hearth and soup on the stove, but, tell me, wolf in ram’s clothes:

If I let you in, will you swallow me whole?

Hands cupping bowls, cup my breasts, tongue in folds.

When hips buck, hold them down, drink your fill, claim your crown.

What big eyes you have, what sharp teeth—

The better to ravage you with, my red treat.

Now, feast.