Wake up! You can’t remember where it was. Had this dream stopped? . The snake was pale gold, glazed and shrunken. We were afraid to touch it. The sheets were hot dead prisons. . And she was beside me, old She’s no… young! Her dark red hair. The white soft skin. Now, run to the mirror in the bathroom, Look! She’s coming in here. I can’t live thru each slow century of her moving. I let my cheek slide down The cool smooth tile Feel the good cold stinging blood. The smooth hissing snakes of rain . . .