Obsession
The air was charged by the distant call of the night bird, his face obscured but I knew he was looking at my chest. Each side stretching recently matured to different sizes. “Hansel come lay with me, like the old woman taught us when we were children,” I said. He closed the door and leaned against it. “You’re not my wife, Gretel,” Hansel said. “I’m more than your wife, I’m your sister.” Hansel flinched and reached for the door handle. I knew he would not leave this place. He would relent and chose to be inside me like he had many nights before. If not I would flay his meaty forearm roll it like a stick of licorice and insert the flesh between my legs. Hansel is my soul. Love only the branch of a willow tree could conjure. Brother, you will be inside me tonight.