Sacred Nights: Ophidia

POEM: Don’t (Listen)

Don’t listen to me, I’m just a snake.
Don’t listen to me, the god said not to, and what do I know about fruit, anyway.
Don’t listen to me, I am a worm and no man.
Don’t listen to me, I just crawl on my belly and lick the dust.
Don’t listen to me, I’m just a puppet crowned with dyed horsehair.
Don’t listen to me when I twine around your leg.
Don’t listen to me when I rise up your spine.
Don’t listen to me when I writhe between your thighs.
Don’t listen to me when I curl around your neck.
Don’t listen to me when I whisper in your ear

That you could be more than this
That you could stand taller
That you could swing your hips more freely
That you could reach wider, farther
That wings could sprout from your shoulders
as serpents engulf your feet
and a light could shine from your heart
to the very edges of the cosmos

Don’t listen to me
what do I know
I’m just a snake
just a reptile with no legs
all spine, eyes, mouth
just a cold-blooded wriggler
just a symbol of the phallus
or knowledge, or wisdom
or cosmic potential
rising out of the darkness
the underworld, the dirt
only a snake
never mind
don’t listen to me

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