He’s made of tears
A wobbly, barely contained
Transparent human shaped water balloon.
Inside his head a dead snake floats
Stripes of blue and green warped
By bubbles rising from down below.
He walks up the steps
Alternatively glistening and obscured by shadow
Of the rose covered trellis at my gate.
I reach out my hand
through delicate gold bars on the door.
A wavering hand of water
Does the same.
My eyes meet the snake’s eyes for a moment
As he bursts open and spills
Across the pink slate steps,
And all that is left is a rose thorn dripping
Into the puddle of tears he had saved.
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