Let us move to the island of rattlesnakes.
I will protect you.
Watch me slide off my city-pumps,
walk barefooted on hot
rocks. Together, let us dance
across the beach, wave our hands
like carefree children, feel grit
rise between hungry toes.
I will ask you—spend the night here,
with me on the dunes,
bare-bodied in the sand.
Know that in this garden,
all things are natural.
Take away my weapons.
Let the hiss of the water
conceal their approach.
Christine Nichols is from Stillwater, Oklahoma.
She has work pending or previously published in NEO’s Portmanteau, Intima, A Journal of Narrative Medicine, Muddy River Poetry Review, Red River Review, Vox Poetica, and Strong Verse.