06/19/2026
The air was charged by the distant call of the night bird. His face was 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,” he 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 choose 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. A love only the branch of a willow tree could conjure. Brother, you will be inside me tonight.
