For the Bookworm

Movement

A horny old snake slithered up to me
on his scratchy scaly belly and said,
"Hey girl, let's move, you and me."
I thought for a moment but the sun was hot
and the air was fine and he felt so good,
so sweet so dry so I said goodbye
to the people I'd known and
together, this old snake and I moved.

Movement just for movement's sake.
We slithered into cool dark mosques,
curled up on painted tile,
Slept in the shade on a rocky beach
and dreamt of water flowing free.

It was in the cool, in the dark, on the scratchy sand,
that the snake uncoiled and touched me one last time.
That old snake had touched me one million times before
but never, never had I felt that burn.
"Hey girl," he said, and he moved on without me.

On my return, my old lover walked up to me,
held out one hand, and smiled slow and sweet.
"Hey girl, I missed you. Stay awhile."
I thought for a moment, but the sun was hot
and the air was fine and I was young and strong.
"Fuck it," I said, "watch me move."