vomiting snake

in nights like this he would just drink
in the dark
and smoke
and lie on his side and
hallucinate
about a snake vomiting vibrating colors
on a white wall

Maybe the snake had eaten paint

But it was a small snake
no bigger than a worm
and the amount of dancing colors it vomited
all over was astounding

Enough to paint the whole house

But the colors would never
stay on the things they fell upon
The colors would
bounce around and dance and vibrate
mingle with each other and
part and mix again

and the small snake would vomit some more
and it would make a sound
like babies crying

All he wanted in times like these
was to crawl over to the poor snake
and comfort it in some way
pat its head, place it in his armpit
to get warm, feed it something, rub its
belly up and down and around

But the little snake
wouldn't come his way

Not even after he split the inside of
his forearm from
wrist to elbow to invite it
into his flesh

"Fine then," he said. "Stand there
and vomit until you
die. We'll still be together one day
whether you like it or not…"

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