Prudence in Hell 013

Adaptive Radiation

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Would you like to take a shot at what a snake is? 

Clawed cloacas, hox genes, anal spurs, every morphogenetic inhibitor one could dream of keeps them at a safe remove from reduction by identification. The snake is nothing, like us. 

Death by constriction is a kind of yoga; one of the most spectacularly pranic ways to die. A little tightening with every breath; all corsetry and dance. Consciousness is breathlessly lost, as knowledge was breathlessly given. Both jaws end unhinged; like a hangar, or a hanged man’s.

Eve was enchanted by the promise of the little death. Knowledge brings foreknowledge of itself. The snake was manifested to invent consent; the future image of the Virgin trampling on the dragon is the erotic consequence of this half-assed misunderstanding. You do not build a woman from ribs but with rubs. I give you what He won’t; you give me what You can’t. The stakes with snakes are absolute.

There was no creature more exciting in all Eden, nor was it exclusive to the garden —the very notion of a garden snake is specious.

I am what borders the garden.
I am the guardian of game; the fork in the kiss: the face of God moving below the waters.