ARTWORK: Eliza Williams
red. AUDREY DAVIS
Red riding hood asks me To run into the dark woods to see Beautiful things. She offers me her hand I take it, hesitating, for a reason I don’t understand We trudge up the dark, bramble choked path Life in this part of the forest seems scarce She catches me when I fall She looks in my eyes and tells me that she can see around my heart surrounds a wall Something feels wrong, I anticipate an attack I really wish I could turn back But enchanted by the lilt of her laugh I keep walking down the brambling path She warns me of the wolves And of wild creatures with horns and hooves She tells me that I should fear And that I should keep her near I look into her eyes As she tells me all along I am who she despised I am confused so I take her hand Shaking, trembling where I stand I’m too far into the woods to escape I couldn’t tell under her red cape I shouldn’t have grabbed the hand, I should have run Red riding hood was the wolf all along
35.
