SNAKE

She lives in the mountains
She lives and breathes the chill air
And feels the happy warmth of her clothes
She sleeps beside the foggy window
Around evening she can see yellow flowers
Dancing in the distance

The top-hat man waves his magic wand
Over her sunken heavy eyes
She’s drifting in the blank comfort of sleep
The top-hat man is gone
And she has no idea of the time
Except that it is a dark uneasy time
When blackness wells and she snaps out
To find herself blinded by blackness

The knife is sharp as it plunges in
Into her glistening graying skin
And she feels a scream and a gasp
There is a fishbone stuck in her throat
From the naked double-edged pang
She feels a swoon and a nausea
She feels intolerant, she feels ridiculous
She feels alive like a burning pyre
She feels parched and rabid with fever
She feels in one instant
…
Eyes fly open like disturbed bees,
Lips quiver and tremble in shapeless shapes,
She will be alright in a minute;
Steadily she walks to her closet,
Whips out the razor,
And rips her vein out.