Snake Lips
       

            Under the lone stone, the eel
                        hid from the white light.
Tempted, maybe, by the fiddler
                                    crab, body-
            sized orange claw held out like

                        Hector when outside
the walls he begged for life. The eel
                                    sat quiet, no
            pitched fight or fast strike for our
                        eyes. But floating scraps

the morning after gave such joy
                                    to boys still
            eager for some war. Better
                        yet, the albino
red snake down the block with pink eyes

                                    and orange
            skin was ready to be fed.
                        This white mouse had eyes
pink as the snake's, but mammal sight
                                    could not help

            it up the glass. All pets are
                        imposters: the orange
tabby that purrs in your pink lap,
                                    eyes a dis-
            tant bird, and pierces your leg.

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Copyright © 2021 Andrew Szilvasy All rights reserved
from Witness Marks
Finishing Line Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission