we slid,
down,
the curve of the asphalt,
snake's back,
black as water,
slick with mud,
till we,
reached,
the tail,
holding on,
drenched,
slapped from side to side,
blind as the yellow-milk,
of his eyes, caught,
between,
the knotted prayers of our hands
silent in the whip-lashed fury,
of our prey.
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