she still wears red.
it is no longer the color of her innocence,
the rosewine cloak of her youth,
but she still wears red.
red is lipstick the color of blood,
is painted fingernails,
dresses that cling like second skins,
and heels sharp as knives,
as the teeth of a wolf.
red is her shield,
her courage in this big bad world.
be careful, we say,
for there are wolves in the forest.
be careful you never leave the path,
for you might not find your way home again.
wear your cloak, little girl,
and do not wander,
for there are dangerous things in the woods.
she traveled off the road, once,
and she has yet to find her way back.