let’s say
this pen is a snake’s tongue

hissing and flicking across the paper
sharp as a razor to touch
piercing and twisting other’s perceptions
of what can or could be

it smells fear

forming words in a frenzied fashion
swift like crows diving down
to perch on a protruding branch
basking in the glory of their handiwork

uncapped, and it bleeds of immortality
a virus to time
a glimpse of youth
spurting hypnotic murmurs
to dilute the pungent odor

ink stains embellish
while embellishments on pale paper stain

it may encircle their captive  
who anticipates the next line
unsure of what to discover
entangled in the embrace

let’s say
this pen is a snake’s tongue
and the ink is the blood
of your innermost passions