By Ramisa Raya
to kill your daughter,
wrap her up in white satin
and place her in the hands
of wolves
then when you find her
on your doorstep,
stained with scarlet:
lock your door,
shut your blinds,
and turn off the lights,
because
nobody is home.
they
accused
me
of
crying
wolf–
they
couldn’t
see
through
the
woodcutter’s
mask–
until
it
was
too
late.
Mother,
I
disappeared yesterday
with a basket of lemons
and an empty flask
of wine
She
pressed a wrinkled finger
to my lips and filled
my hands
They
faltered under my gun–
their large ears,
eyes,
mouth twitched;
I saw red
You
ignored
my waving
scarlet hood
He
is gone,
you
are gone
she
is gone
but I remain
murder weapon: abandonment
Ramisa is a law student and hobbyist writer. Her collection ‘Unbirthing Little Red Riding Hood’ is part of a greater anthology, ‘Speak’ – a collection of folklore and fairytale free-verse subversions that restore the voices lost (unspoken, silenced) in feminine discourse. She welcomes you warmly to her blog: http://ramisatheauthoress.wordpress.com/.
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