There’s a tug on the earth and the underearth
as you glide and
gliiide.
Across the ground,
around the earth.
A hiss from a space
where lips should be.
A rattling
from your end.
Carrying terrifying
and keen on making dying.
Poisonous unlike succubus: no temptation.
You got that scare factor
in a huge pack
upon your unending spine.
Tapered to a waist that isn’t there.
Keep going if you want.
A ghastly jungle and forest found haunter.
Fangs piercing
and making taint
within bloodlines.
You make me not what I am.
Wrap around me and coil in comforting press,
Python.
