“Most women wouldn’t live without running water.”
A compliment, maybe backhanded, or a challenge.
Most likely a warning against giving up the ease
of a warm shower or a mirror’s sink.
But I’m not Eve walking away from garden and god
just to feel the sway between the good of having and the evil of not.
It’s beguiling though, the black racer I found
while trudging through our woods.
Startled, she slinked so lithe over fallen branch and leaf,
her swift glide seemed more blessing than curse.
I’ve given arms and legs for such deft swerves.
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