Bake us cookies sweet, he said
I baked them rough like my ancient feet.
Smile like an angel for me, he said
I bit his ring finger clean to bone.
Make me a stew for my aching joints
I brewed nettle and nightshade and rue.
I am not your sweetheart, I am not your wife.
I am terror and iron.
I am wild and woman.
I am my own,