Wake up!
You can’t remember where it was.
Had this dream stopped?
.
The snake was pale gold, glazed and shrunken.
We were afraid to touch it.
The sheets were hot dead prisons.
.
And she was beside me, old
She’s no… young!
Her dark red hair.
The white soft skin.
Now, run to the mirror in the bathroom,
Look!
She’s coming in here.
I can’t live thru each slow century of her moving.
I let my cheek slide down
The cool smooth tile
Feel the good cold stinging blood.
The smooth hissing snakes of rain . . .