Okay, just one more today and I'm through.

Architect of Appetite

the witch doesn’t dine very often 
 she’s a connoisseur

she enjoys how cinnamon sprinkled on the roof
   carries in the air     when the children
  drift in to her yard    they’re dragged
by their noses

 her mother warned her 
  she would starve
  with  her delicate tongue

the rest of the family made do with rats and grubs
  the occasional farmer’s wife

the witch smiles as she remembers
pats her belly    bakes a new
gingerbread brick & stuffs it in 
the corner where her bedroom sags

  she’s never been unhappy 
with the 
 sweetness 
  the way the flesh sloughs
off the bone boiled in garlic
  water and lemon

though some summer days 
 she swears 
  the heat in her little sugared house 
   will bake her