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Friday, July 28, 2006


The snake slithered sinuously between the sleepers as they lay nestled together in the naked innocence of unknowing, children in the dawning of time itself.

Touching, caressing, the serpent draws from secret wells of sensory pleasure great scarket gushes of sensation, staining the pristine purity of their dreams.

Seductive murmurings whisper in their slumbers, bringing that to life which once was suspended still and quiet in the limbo of ignorance.

The apple of the tree of knowledge, once bitten, cannot be made whole again. Bitter sweet is this fruit, the gift of the Serpent.
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