The Serpent is Tempted
by Mike Allen
It's a principle of the universe that everything spirals to an intimate squeeze — the sinuous limbs of galaxies, the crush of gravity. I have no fruits for you to pluck — they shine so far away, so hot, how could you reach? How could you bite? — it's your hidden warmth, your blood-salt oceans, the scattered lights of your night-time habitats like so many wide-eyed mice, that call to me. Dim stars demarcate my spine, winding side to side as I slide to you. How I long to flicker subtleties before your eyes, twin comet tails joined in a forked tongue. How I long to thaw against your molten heart.
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