She dons the grey and hooded cloak; unique in unintrusiveness, veiling her true visage concealed in all mysteries which are blind in consciousness; gliding warm silk whisper out of the corner of my eye The mother of sensation revealed only through abandon pressing forth with passion's urgence until blackness fills with red Hooded, cloaked to those who hesitate to confront her scal'ed visage revealed in all obscenity to those drawn to her embrace The constriction of true freedom wraps across my yearning body and I revel in her warm dark scales, letting waves of breath escape Her eyes do not hold evil, but true knowledge of our freedom fleeing wildly from oppression, enslavement and discourse to the silence of ecstacy, the darkness of the wood, the warmth of the black cave, the hollowness of time The power of the snake who coils; enfolds in scales the spiral's mysteries undiscovered within She who strikes with vengeance and justice, She who whispers in my ear, She who hisses passions intense- In darkest black In flaming red Present but not seen Hidden in full view She and I entangle and I turn a greedy ear