If the road was a snake
would you walk along it?
never knowing when it
would curve back
to strike?
Are you afraid to
sandal-step
through life?
Brave enough to bare?
The skins of the snakes lie everywhere,
Scales between your toes,
before your eyes,
covering every lie.
Pick them up? Or pluck them out?
So soft, cushioning your way,
So much easier than the scorched sand.
Easier by far to walk on their forgotten clothes.
To hope for emptiness,
To walk in fear
ever watchful for that
subtle
bite.
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