why he stalked Little Red
on the way to Grandma's house,
skipping in velvet Mary Janes;
her poppy red cape
billowing like a red sail
above a sea of forest green.
It wasn't the scent of her;
a potion of sandalwood and vanilla
emanating from her pulse points.
Nor was it the heady fragrance of blood
beneath her crepe paper skin.
He could taste the marrow
in her bones--bittersweet dark
chocolate with a taint of belladonna.
He would die to consume her essence;
a fallen angel in sheep's clothing.
Sandy Benitez is the editor of Poppy Road Review and Flutter Press. She recently completed her second book, a paranormal novelette, The Haunting of Meredith, which is available on Kindle Short Reads.