I have snakes in my head and they're saying your name.
A den of copperheads who whisper soft my shame.
That I thought you had said my heart was half to blame.
But now that I have read the letters left in flame
I know that you did shed the night which you had laid claim
To my body in bed and my heart in the frame.
I am the fool who had fed from the moans of your game.
Now I listen, full bled, to the snakes you gave to me when you said my name.