A Cautionary Tale

She'd slept so long beside him
the bed had seemed a desert
after the rows, the silence and the coldness.
She couldn't sleep in such an expanse
alone.

They'd kept a python so she took it to bed
and lay curled up next to
its coiled and muscular heat
to remember him.
She dreamt of a close-fitting snakeskin suit.

Awoke to find it straight as a ruler
beside her, a measure of her length
and each morning after.
The vet threw a fit, told her
the snake – as these snakes do -

was sizing her up
to see if he could swallow her whole.
Typical, she thought,
here's another one who only wants me
for my body.