Eve Addresses The Serpent

(A Sonnet Fragment)

Sweet coiling whispering mouth and crimson tongue,

Your many voices mixed with vapors kiss

The mind so deep that I already miss

My journey friend, so very fair, so young.

I hear him calling me, but I am stung

And losing fast that promised flush to this:

Your circling sun-dance rings the sweet abyss,

And brings no warnings in the mother tongue.

© Jay Warren Clark