Mysteries

by

Crystal Dawn Allen

This is a shallow grave
and you have crawled right into it.
I have lined the bottom with
poisonous snakes;
you have just noticed them now,
swirling and writhing,
a gilstening knotted mass
of death and sexuality.

You wonder if they confuse
the scent of curiousity with
the scent of fear,
you wonder if they are poising
their arrow shaped heads with the intent
to strike and kill
or seduce (and kill).
They twist and curl about your ankles,
then your calves,
vines with blood in their veins.
You too have blood
in your veins,
and when their scales slide across you
your flesh crawls
right off
like a snake shedding its skin.

Down, down you go into
that passionate reptilian embrace,
tangled in a heap of wire,
only softer than wire,
and more electric.
It is all one body within,
and it moves like stormclouds,
tumbling over and over itself
in a symphony of instinct.

Now, you would prey
rather than pray.
Now, you would be lost
in the surging currents of your veins;
Now you would know
ecstatic union.
I thought this was
certain death for you,
but you can no longer distinguish
death from anything else,
the beating of a drum, the pulsing
of a heart, the desire
to mate, to surrender, the conquest
again.

I see the panic and
the excitement
shining in your bright wet eyes,
my dear.
Here, take my hands.

Now, you would know the mysteries.

And now, you would know.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Echos Of The Everlasting
by: John William McGrath III
from: Mesa, AZ, US

To visit all of Crystal Dawn Allen's poems, click HERE

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