The Serpent is Tempted

by Mike Allen

It's a principle of the universe
that everything spirals
to an intimate squeeze —
the sinuous limbs of galaxies,
the crush of gravity.
I have no fruits for you to pluck —
they shine so far away, so hot,
how could you reach?
How could you bite? —
it's your hidden warmth,
your blood-salt oceans,
the scattered lights of your
night-time habitats like
so many wide-eyed mice,
that call to me.
Dim stars demarcate my spine,
winding side to side
as I slide to you.
How I long
to flicker subtleties
before your eyes,
twin comet tails
joined in a forked tongue.
How I long
to thaw
against your molten heart.

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