Viperish

Overcooked mental food,
choosing the right tool for the job breaks the mood.
Knowing your audience cleanly is easier,
but to disattach is to risk collapse.

I seem to seamlessly sew up open books.
Any offerings made can be silenced
with a look; big ideas might make less sense
but it makes no difference.
I climb with safety-checked inked hooks.

Whiplash whittles me down to a figurine,
it resembles a carven snake.
Drying beside the fire, sit quite
stonily. Breathe and shake

while considering a new shape,

(I know the taste of poison
before drinking:
bedsheets warping, coiled bodies.
Guilty skin unwrinkling)

and unwrapping your passive brain
like an asp unpeeling.
Picking off the bark with finger stumps.
This is perfect for reflecting, shady;
but yesterday rears like a viperish bump.

And desire to understand can't
overtake
ability unless we
consider new shapes,
breathe and shake away

this overcooked mental food

(biting your audience cleanly is
much more polite;
but to tame and take turns
is to unlearn).