I have painted every single
one of my feathers iridescent,
shining in all the colours
of the rainbow, all while
people were drowning and
screaming in my depths.
You sidle closer, entranced,
even though I am nothing
more than a serpent
underneath them.
You say this is fine,
You do not understand
I am nothing less.
Your fingers trail
the shafts of my feathers,
brush the points of my claws.
I let you, knowing
that it would not change the outcome,
enjoying the play of your hands
across my spine.
You will smile whilst
I slaughter your enemies,
cry whilst
I massacre your friends,
and I will blink and return
to licking my fangs.
I will eat you,
but only after you have no more
use to me.
You will die,
but with the notion
I loved you.
If this is symbiosis,
it was classified by the predator.
The one that survives
will tell the story,
even if your hands
better wield the pen.
I am horrible,
I admit to you,
and you only smile,
ask me to open my jaws
so you can clamber inside
and brush my tongue.
See?
I’m so terrible
you don’t even believe me.
So rest in my coils;
find that spot that
seems to be made for you
and settle down. It wasn’t,
but it’s the only place you’ve got.
When my fangs finally puncture
your prone, trusting body,
perhaps I will feel
a small sting
of regret
before the next prey
runs into my arms.
For your own peace of mind,
that will have to be enough.
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