by Kit O'Connell
(4/12/00)

Pythons curl around your wrists
pointed black heads pulled back
to strike

but you restrain
despite dripping fangs,
reptilian tongues hissing
you dance.

Curled like bracelets
'round your wrists
scales slide against skin
your face, implacable,
staring down slitted eyes

Is it any wonder we
fall in worship, in love?
having conquered the
snake you conquer so much
our hearts, our hard cocks
so sure, snake priestess,
you conquer our fears
as our reptilian back
brain hisses
pulls back to strike
falls in worship
to your gentle touch