Red Riding Hood Had A Pretty Good Time With The Wolf

Because maidens

Burn

Like celluloid,

They fitted

Me

With a

Hood,

A

Fire-fighting

Talisman

For

My own

Inner blaze.

And yet

We reciprocate

Like conversation,

Tongues embracing

Teeth

And appetites

In

Private riot.

My forest-dog,

My liege,

My gentleman

King Kong

Lights up

An

Amazon boudoir

(Two women

The

Same night!)

He hushes

My manners,

Uncapes me

With

A God’s

Hairy hand,

Imperative

As sex

And

As sweet

As darlings

New-found

And thumbling

In ears

The remembrance

Of

What ever

Was.

He perished

In my

Second birthing,

In my

Learning

Of the

Purest heresy

Of

Blood and guts.

Now

I keep

My strangers

Strained,

But sometimes

Even

The moon

Looks like

A man

In a dress.