"Lady!" The splendid rings of the body wound
And fell continually, like some sinuous river
Spilling light like jewels. He hissed, lifting his crowbed,
Blunt head over the erected coils. I shivered
And did obeisance, "My Lord." The supple rounds
UNfolded, closer than before. "Never
"Has lady called me lord. Still, get to bed,
Shed your shift. "I felt a pricking fire
Ripple along my veins. "Slough a skin," I said.
"Never has lady asked me that before,"
He said, "I ask it now," "Fixing his unlidded
Eyes on mine, he writhed and twisted. Desire
Swelled and sighed in the womb tense for the seed
To fill it. As I gazed, the tortuous spirals turned,
Undulated, and stretched, quivering until they freed
The first skin. It lay on the floor. I burned
To touch the glistening mailed body, Instead,
Beside the skin I laid the shift it had earned,
"Shed your skin and go to bed," the Serpent hissed.
"Slough a skin," I whispered, "Never before has anyone
Asked me that. "I ask it." Venom of lust
Welled into my breasts as the circling Serpent spun,
The gleaming scales shipping down, to drop and twitch
Away the skin. And I gave the shift it had won.
The Serpent away from me at last, over
And over in an ecstasy of violence, to kill
The sin that smiled in me, in him, and I drove
Him, hissing, low in a circle until he fell.,
Then close beside the body of my lover
I kneeled and sobbed, for I desired him still.
And I lifted the white flesh, carried it down
To the bath of milk and washed it, shamelessly weeping
And sighing, "My loving lord, come back." Then
Fast in the bed I embraced him and fell asleep
Dreaming of serpents. And straightway woke again.
For I heard the voice of the Serpent rise in the deep
Of night whispering, "I am your Serpent-lord,
I am the rose in your heart hidden. I am
Your talisman. I am your secret. I am your hoard
Of pride and chastity, spent in the circle's charm.
I am the Serpent, heir to the king, restored
By bravery of your love to my true form.
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