by Maria Kintner
Here’s a cup to drink from,
tears and blood upon my lip.
The sad acceptance that I must swallow.
It constricts my pipes as they force it down.
I let a snake into my belly, and it slithered
to my heart. Made a nest there, and squeezed like a fist.
My soul set on fire by venom, even as I cried out for more.
I don’t recognize my face,
but I have to live with her.
She is tired of the game,
where we pretend we’re not alone.
In the mirror, she took her own bloody claws,
and pulled the serpent out. It writhed between her fingers,
but it no longer had teeth. No fangs to defend itself. All its scales
black and dull. She crushed it in her palms, and it became ash in my mouth.
We integrate, a solitary silhouette amongst the trees. I will never bite that fruit again.
Author's Note: I wish I never met you, but it's a little too late.
Posted on 01/07/2021
Copyright © 2021 Maria Kintner