Spineless

Buried deep in the shelves of knowledge
each of you flip through my mind.
Like titles and classification on the spine
I see you in words left upon the door.
I was a tender flower left alone on the desert floor.

“Time to eat,” said the creep
“time to dine, on mine.
Whose teeth are these,
whose tail so sleek?”
Almost gone but not quite,
“Sugar sweet so young so fresh
let me place my hand upon your dress,
look closer it might still be a snake
Gliding and sliding near to thee.”

Face to face, unusual traits, the quest to digest
your lungs, your skin, teeth and hair
bridges and tunnels, hot shots, predators on the forest floor.