Notes About The Poem
This was written many years ago while in the blackest grief one could imagine...I'm much better now. (smile)
Serpent and the Cranium
Warm smooth coils round
my head
scales tickle my forehead
I want to scratch
quick tongue laps my ear
The body moves… languid
like water over smooth rock
Or is the snake inside
my head?
Is there only one or many
seething and writhing?
Is the poison real or
imaginary?
If I move too fast or
think too fast
will it?…they…
strike?
If they strike will my death be
only in my mind?
If not entirely in my head
will anyone grieve?
Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets
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