Sometimes my thoughts are oblique,
They slither out of my mouth like river snakes,
Long green bodies tickling my lips,
They’re harmless, I suppose,
But with a sneaky grace.
There are some snakes that hibernate,
They stay in my cranium,
Curled up and seemingly sleeping,
Waiting to dance in my dreams,
Or to live in words written in invisible ink,
Letters written in a mirror.
Your words rise and fall,
(Remember e.e. cummings from high school?),
Your voice through the wires,
Your face and chest, an image on my monitor,
Your words rise and fall,
Like grape soda through a straw,
The purple bubbles foaming towards my mouth,
My lips sucking you in,
You say “hot”, and now I’m wet.
I know what I want,
My snakes are here in my open palm,
(You say “hot”, and now I’m wet.)
I’m holding them out to you – a gift,
They wave coolly to you,
As if you are a snake-charmer in a fairy tale,
Or they are ocean foliage,
(It all comes back to water),
You smile, open mouthed and tongue tip showing,
Your hands reaching out.
I swear there are no hidden snakes in my skull,
Plaited together, waiting to unravel their stories,
Dozing in the heat of my head – slumbering,
And I believe myself,
Knowing that the unexpected is just a drop of blood away,
That this is how stories are written,
In invisible ink and in a mirror,
I believe myself,
You say “hot”, and now I’m wet.
Avery Cassell 
HELL YEAH! Great, great poem. Fearless and sexy, especially that last line. You’ve won me over & I’m adding you to my blogroll.
I also write queer-theme poetry. Click my name to check it out.
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Thanks for reading, commenting and adding me. I took a look at your blog…wonderful stuff. And so prolific. Write onwards!
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