Gretel has the window open in darkness
She is waiting for the witch to come
To follow her trail of bread crumbs
The warm night sifts into her bed
Where she lays with her fat, sleeping brother
Their father has fattened up as well
But she cannot eat
She is still dreaming of the ginger woods
And the fire shining in the oven
Each day it has been the same
Hansel and their father work, eat, play
Gretel sits in the house at her window
In the night the men slumber
And Gretel remains awake
Soon the witch’s withered hands
Softly come through the fluttering curtains
She creeps into the childhood room
To steal Gretel away
Hansel sleeps and snores
As the witch wraps Gretel in butterscotch arms
And kisses her with black sugar lips
“I did not die
And I have looked so long for you
Come away with me,
be my cinnamon girl”
And she took Gretel into the woods
Carrying her over the whispering creek
Dipping her pink dress in the water
And there was the house from her dreams
Still made of bread and frosted sugar windows
The witch made her a bed by the iron kettle
And Gretel found herself happy there
The two women became lovers
Gretel put desire in the witch’s shriveled heart
She licked at her plum breasts
And each of her vanilla cake fingers
The old witch held her young dear,
Naked and of pale bones
She kissed Gretel’s empty stomach
To fill the emptiness there
But still, some haunted nights
When the moon is shrunken in the black sky
Gretel dreams of her lost brother
She will wake to the dim fire
Crying out his name
And the old witch,
who takes her tea at midnight,
will pretend not to hear