The Snake She Holds

The Snake She Holds

The poison she holds coils in silence.

It slithers through the air like a snake.

Her words are venom hidden in velvet.

Her smile is sharp, a glint of danger.

I watch her move, graceful and still.

Each step is measured, a trap unseen.

Her eyes are like glass, reflecting nothing.

They hold storms beneath the calm.

I feel it brush my skin, subtle.

A hiss in the quiet, a chill in the bone.

Every touch is a warning I cannot flee.

Her shadow stretches long into my night.

She whispers in corners, soft and low.

Seeds of doubt grow like thorns.

Her laughter cuts, tender and cruel.

It leaves me tangled in her coils.

I think of her as a snake in sunlight.

Scales glitter with false promises.

Beneath the shimmer is a strike.

Quick, silent, fatal to the heart.

Her poison is patient, elegant.

A slow drip into the veins of trust.

I taste it in the air, bitter and sweet.

A longing mixed with fear I cannot name.

I wonder if she knows the power.

The way her presence bends the room.

The way her poison waits, patient.

Ready to strike when I least expect.

Even the wind seems to obey her.

It curls around her ankles.

It sways with her breath.

As if afraid of the venom she carries.

And still I am drawn.

To the snake in the thrill in her gaze.

To the danger she carries.

The quiet destruction I cannot escape.

I dream of her at night.

Her eyes glint with secrets.

I wake with the hiss in my ears.

The memory of scales against my skin.

She is a storm that moves softly.

A shadow that leaves marks unseen.

I walk through her poison every day.

Knowing the bite is waiting for me.