Genevieve’s Week 14: Anaconda

when i turn myself over to you
i can feel the anaconda
lurking at the seat of my spine
relax her coils and submit
which is not easy
it’s never easy
for a 20 foot serpent
with venom in her fangs
and hunger growling
in her belly
to bow her head
to say, okay.

once upon a time
i might have chopped off
the tips of your doting
fingers with my teeth.
not anymore.
you feed me strawberries
tenderly as if you
were nurturing
a baby robin.
when i grow indignant
and i tell you that i
am strong and capable,
you nod your head.
you say, i know.

ours is a white bed, clean room
ours is a hot lunch, thrifty smile
no more furies stiffening steel
into the bones. i gather you
around me like a quilt and cocoon
myself deeper into your folds.
the anaconda, she sighs.

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