ello, jello

For Christmas, Smiley sent me crew-length socks with snakes on the ankles, among other things

Said that they reminded her of me, of the desert

And I’m reminded of the time I bought the gold snake earrings with her and tried to slip them into my pocket

Reminded of the time I reached in blind and was bit by their sharp posts

Reminded of the hurt I felt at the time, not entirely the fault of the snakes

I wrote about it then, thought it was kinda funny (not funny because we loved each other but…)

Art aunt said to pay attention

Said that my dreams of coughing up one live snake after the other was something

Said that the placement for my snake tattoos was something

Looked at me with steely blue eyes, whispered that I’d know when I was ready for that something

On my move back to the desert, she gifted me two framed paintings: Twin snakes, coiled and ready

Just like the earrings

Just like my tattoos

Just like Smiley’s socks

It’s funny that she sent me socks, actually

Putting on snakes and taking them off

(But it’s not funny now, is it? Because this is more than something)

I think I’m ready to shed this skin.