August 23, 2008
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A snake slithered into my sheets last night.
It was cold, and shone in my night light.
Its scales got caught on the cotton sheets;
It was so cold against my skin.
Its deep black eyes peered into mine,
And I felt a pang of sin bloom behind my spine.
My skin roasted while my innards froze,
And I remembered I hadn’t said my daily prose.
I whispered, “Our Father, who Art in Heaven”,
And forget the rest of that beautiful poem
As the snake’s bumpy scales twisted ‘round my neck
And its glistening fangs slid into my veins.

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