Forest Green

A poem by Venus Davis.

Your moss covered snake tongue makes
its way down my body
Cocooning itself in every orifice

Tender at first
but poisonous as time delays
I can feel you,
the parasite in my stomach,

Making figure eights inside of me
Calling me beautiful, gorgeous
And meaning to call me

Steaming in an empty room.
Meaning to call me nothing
Meaning to not mean anything

Because to you I am just another
body to feed off of
Just another log to sneak under
Just another anyone

Venus Davis is a 21-year-old queer black writer from Cleveland, Ohio. They are the editor in chief of Periwinkle Literary Magazine. They are a former poetry reader for Random Sample Review and Gordon Square Review. Their work has been featured in Marias at Sampaguitas, Royal Rose Magazine, Ayaskala, Crepe and Penn, and many other publications. They are the author of Sensitive Divination, an astrology microchapbook as well as the microchapbooks, Blue and @ngel number(s). You can find them on social media @venusbeanus.

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