I'm their hero;

I aped that rattle snake-
It’s slow, eccentric hiss,
and that proud cape
of music…

Swept the feet of dust,
As those rustles of sandpaper-
bit my ears-
kissed my spine…

and the venom led
another slippery prey
to the ceramic confines
of a plate;

- I shivered like your daffodils,
just with a little more wind;
and shot at the sun,
with fireflies;

Yet these cliffs are no longer tall enough-
they’ve eroded, and I’ve grown-
I couldn’t wait for them
anymore;

Thus, ecdysis...
and the hidden cocoons-
where I shed another life,
sinned, once again;

And fell open,like your eggs;

…this desert makes me sweat,
It’s a good teacher, I would say-
Yet somehow I miss England,
and the daisies;

these serpents still think,
I'm their hero;

I wonder.