SNAKES/ KRISTINE ONG MUSLIM
Smooth-skinned whips, bristle
with every touch, dart with
every shift in motion.
The air accommodates
the rustling, forgives
every thrust. The grass
tenderly parts, gives way,
swallows whatever trail
they have left behind.
I say they have been
lovers for a long time now.
One touches the other’s lips.
One shivers at the weight
of the other’s soul.
The ground loves all of them:
Stay cold for now.
Stay down.
Stay low.
thunderclappress.wordpress.com 