Like the snake

Like the snake

Perhaps we recoil
at the sight of the serpent
not because he is so foreign,
on the contrary,
because we are so familiar.

Life ages and cracks
with the mundane;
we wilt under its exposure
into dry, flesh constraining
sacs of dead cells.
The binds of which
we shall revolt,
struggle…stretch…
and wriggle free;
leaving behind withered artifacts,
empty shells of what
(or shall I say whom)
we once were.

Like the snake
we shed ourselves
and slide reinvented
towards the sun.

author: rashael crystal