I was bored, numb, and sleepy-spirited,
until the snakes came. I saw them,
tongue first in the door, fire pouring, coiling lava lapping up.
I lay like the smell of complaint on the twisting tongue.
Fangs inject like molten nails. All Hell,
the fire, the eyes, puncture, the writhe.
And Moses prayed and God heard and refused to take the snakes away.
Not the hiss. Not the bite.
Only if we centered eyes on the bronze, that snake of fire he made in flames.
Only then, did the bite not burn. Only then did we escape.
these thoughts brought to you by one of the freakiest stories I’ve read in a while