Python

To further comment on the way
your eyes dismantle me,
I sometimes feel my heart’s little beak
pecking at the inside of my ribs
like it wants to rip its way out
of its repetitive, dead end job.
Leave me hanging,
aorta sputtering
like a leaky garden hose.

Again, in regards to
strange behaviors of the cardiac variety,
it likes to burrow down deep
within my warm thrumming tummy
plucking holes in my gastro-tract
trying to find you from that time
a few weeks back when
I swallowed you whole—
I told you, I’m a snake.
I squeeze till you’re blue.
Unhinge my jaw and—
once I thought I was poisonous.
The kind that kills quickly, but
instead, it turns out I constrict.
I am slow death and cradling
I am lulling you to sleep and
forgetting you exist
and you, blue
I digest you for months.

 

By Daniel Godwin

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