And there she stood
Beneath the wind
An animal dressed
In the suit of
A woman
Or was it a man
Or a woman dressed
As a man
Or an animal dressed
As a woman
And her tail
Twitched
And her instincts
Flickered
As she followed
The trail of
Breadcrumbs
Maybe she noticed
 the picnic basket
And the hood
Made of red
The axe
And the wolf's tail
The teeth
Maybe of a lady
Older than she
Pretended not to be
And she travelled on
By the ginger bread
Cottage
And the witches
Coven
And maybe merlin
Twirled his beard
Fiddled with his
Staff
And maybe the children
Screamed
From the pot
Over the fire
Or maybe there was no fire
Anyway
And by the time
She cleared the woods
She was no longer
Animal nor beast
Nor woman
Nor man
But on she went
Into the nightless day
And the dreary dusk
To find herself
A woodcutter
And do with his tongue
What anyone
In her position would
When they lived
By the law
Of the flickering light
And the pathway
Never travelled
And she waited
Flooded by
Light artificial
Knowing only
That the best thing
That could happen
Was to
prick
Her poisoned finger
And hope
To god
That she
woke
Up