Len Solo Poet Free verse

Arched In Still Wonder

In the room
a fist penetrates
the meling air.
A slender
          long
          line
        is moving,
      bent backwards,
   arched in
 still wonder
at its shimmying splendor
in the dark.

What could be as smooth,
   as
     slimy
            smooth,
                     as
                     a
                     snake
                          wiggling
                                   and
                                      calling
                                              in
                                              the
                                                 night?

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