Love is a snake,

a serpent with malicious intentions,

a seductress that envelops you

but that can slip through the door when your eyes divert.

It can swallow you whole with pleasure,

so you’re subdued by its breadth and its power,

but one day it will curl itself into a crook of your home

without telling you

and become so small and weak, you wonder how it held you.

It can grow under the stroke of your hand

and stretch to welcome your touch,

then shed its skin the next day,

as if your affection was infectious.

Love is a snake,

that can slip into your yard through the fence

and slither through the drain while you both wash the dishes.