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I am a hydra of sorts. I have a head of snakes. When the night has fallen and the light has been turned down low, they come alive. I dress them up with strands of the finest gossamer till they have spun a veil about me. Twinkle in the dark. Midnight halo. They don’t eat much, but I make sure they are moist. Wouldn’t want one of them to start sipping from a wine glass. Snakes may be smooth, but don’t be deceived: they have no manners whatsoever. They will steal the best slivers of food from your plate, and how could you refuse them? Their eyes intoxicate when you allow yourself an unfortunate glance; once is enough and you will never look away again.My snakes are perfect; they never fail. So how is it you are unaffected? You don’t seem to even notice they are there; at least, that is what I thought. Now you tell me you don’t like the way they hang around us when we kiss. They are not acceptable. You tell me: the snakes must go. So I throw my heads away, all of them, just because you don’t like the way they hung around you. These eyes can’t bewitch you. I throw them away, cutting them off at the roots, snip, snip. Serpent tails fall all over me, my shoulder, my neck, my face. I look in the mirror.

I’m not an acceptance level. I’m me. Damn you, I’m me.

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Current Mood: Determined.
Current Music:

• Bob Marley feat. Lauryn Hill – Turn Your Lights Down Low
• Chaka Khan – Through The Fire
• Anita Baker – You Belong To Me

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Credit: Artwork by John Bolton from The Sandman Presents: The Furies.