The Serpent’s Kiss

Lovers and falling rain 1996 61x46cm

This ashen tongue…

It slithers through deceit 

Like dreams of silk

Over the morning mist.

Your mouth tastes of promise;

It shimmers over mine

Until synapses burst

And blind, I cannot sift

Away the beauty from its lies.

An angel born of darkness;

Your dagger rooted in my spleen…

Around its icy blade I twist

Until my bowl bejewels yours

With tears of ruby warmth.

Yours is the serpent bite,

And mine… the rift. 

*

Daily Prompt: Moved to Tears

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