I am the Witch in the story. Not the Maiden.
I live in caves along the hollows of Cliffs.
My dance is on the sea-waves, not in ballrooms.
Men do not win me. I win them.
I cheat and threaten until they are worn down
into the smoothness of a river stone.
Someone must speak for the Witches.
We too were maidens once.
I saw the castle from a great distance.
I set off in the woods.
What I found there was a mouth hungrier than that of the Wolf.
My mouth. My hunger.
And the good fairy that leapt from behind the tree
changed me from victim to predator.
I am the Witch in the story, not the Maiden.