I. Appetizer
Trust pours off the little red-hood girl in waves.
Light, delicious—
A little amouse-bouche to cleanse the palate
and whet the appetite.
Scallops, seasoned with a lemon-rosemary sauce
A sprig of thyme on top
Something to fill the void inside
and hint at more to come.
But no matter how tempting,
Never gorge yourself on the appetizer.
The main dish is always better.
II. Entrée
Have you ever cut into a rare steak—
So rare it's still bloody
The center so red it's purple—
And you know that when you take a bite
It will be rich, flavorful,
Seasoned with a little salt and pepper
to let the steak's flavor shine—
and maybe a red wine demi-glaze—
Soft enough there's no need to chew?
Well, that's what fear tastes like.
And Granny's fear?
That's Kobe beef.
This is the part of the meal where you gorge yourself
So, why not? He takes little red-hood too.
III. Dessert
He expected the trust, the fear
Bones snapping, hearts pounding.
The guilt, however? That's the cherry on top.
Little red-hood knows she doomed Granny and herself
And oh it tastes good.
It slides down like chocolate fondue
So rich and sweet that
No other pastry can compare.
He's had many a meal—
lobster tails in butter sauce,
(desire)
French fries and milkshakes,
(the twin emotions of anxiety and self-loathing)
even pâté de foie gras—
(joy)
But he'll never again have a meal like this one.
IV. The Check
He lays there asleep as the woodsman pulls them out
and replaces them with heavy stones
dreaming of flavors and meals
and all that comes with it.
He drowns with the taste of satisfaction—
bitter greens with a balsamic vinaigrette
and topped with a cheddar so sharp it'll bite your nose off—
on his lips.