Serpent Song (Version B)

After we ate from the fruit,
kissing each other
through fleshy peach-pulp,
you silently slithered away.

At night your belly-blubber slimed tree-bark
that stuck to my hands in the morning,
when Adam and I went to squeeze honey from dates,
sweet brown tickling our tongues like rain.

In my sleep, you hiss-whispered
words about creation: tremors
as your lips crawled up my thighs,
and the river of your scales
flowed between my legs.

Now Adam
rubs his hands between my legs,
crushing my petals.

Afterwards, while he goes outside to pee,
your muddy scales glide through the grass.

I close my eyes, longing for the moment
dawn slithers through the sky
in a flash of shiny scales.