A Victimized Wolf

I remember the little coal dress and bright red hood,
sky high heels, and heart black curls.
I remember she skipped along, happily,
innocent, naive, trained, knowing.
I remember asking her if she needed a ride home,
that she lived “just around the bend.”
I remember her sitting in my Chevy leather seats,
legs crossed and smile trained on me.
I remember brown eyes and cherry red lips
that lured me closer and closer--
closer, closer, yet farther, farther.
I remember stopping outside a wooden house
and looking through the four-square window panes.
I remember an old woman sitting by the fire
chewing meat from the bone like a dog.
I remember asking for her number
and getting a kiss in return.
I remember the feel of fireflies in the air
and the life of my skin seeping from my toes.
I remember seeing my life, in golden essence
drained from my mouth as her lips slowly pulled away.
I remember nothing more,
she enslaved my eyes.
I remember only waking up here, in hell
with her kiss branded on my lips
and my bones dismantled.