This is a poem I wrote after wring another for my collection called storyteller. I won’t say much about this one, but most artists can’t help but express themselves in their art, even if others don’t like it.

To Love the Snake

There is beauty in deadly things. The curving snake is fanged and scaled. And it feels pleasant to the touch Intoxicating when it’s held.

And what feels one who pets a hare? Or lifts a chicken in their arms? For only cubs can be called cute. Most run away when they are harmed.

Where is the beauty of the night? Where does it dwell during the day? Oh, name it and let me know it, Or should I also stay away?

Oh, what is love without it’s fear? Hear thunder’s roar; see deep blue sea. Why have I learned to dance with night? And love the snake that strangles me