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A Snake Sweeping His Porch You are the reptilian Friend: such a strange standing Amongst (them) the apples swelling Unbitten with sweetness Too subtle to paint With one color of emotion. You tempt them With lusty crimson. Your scaly lips Hiss: Turn for me Against soft peels Mix and ripen. Pregnant-purple, Kiss: Turn for me Brownblue They’ve bruised now Fallen & rotten. So you sweep Away skins of you & dead friends: eaten. Jacqueline O’Reilly

16 / VLR

Profile for Virginia Literary Review

Virginia Literary Review: Spring 2017  

Virginia Literary Review: Spring 2017