Thought leaves itself trailing in a hologram of sorts
or music
mine no less
and
snakes have heard me think
i swear
when entrenched in abject self-pity.
Thinking
no-one would miss me
corner turned and snake,
extremely venomous,
curled:
poised and
daring me to take that indifferent step.
Later,
pregnant,
i trailed along a riverbank
to see
butterflies playing upon a stem
and co-witnessing them
a snake
peacably prepared to let me be.
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