The Way the Wolf Woos

She knows better

Than to wear silk now,

Though the crimson cap

Is still a tradition.  He

Takes joy in toying with ribbons,

As he nibbles lightly

(The better to taste you)

Down her newly-bared neck.

Spellbound, she wonders

Not about granny (who

Lies abed elsewhere)

But why mother

Failed to tell her 

About any of this.

Claws tickle and tease

With utmost care

As he watches with joy

(The better to see you) her

Goose-bumped response.

And oh, the seduction

Of words! They

Drip from his tongue

Like a basket of goodies

Spilled out on the sheet;

Honey-tinged vowels,

Growls barely stifled, and

Consonants filled

With the promise of heat.

Such sweet delight found

When cheek to cheek,

Or head on chest,

Pulse beat rhythms and

Slick skin echoes,

All (the better to hear) him

Say, “Come closer child,

Let me tell you a story.”

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* Figurine in photo created by Jim Shore