Snakes

You could be clairvoyant,
For the last you dreamt was of snakes.
And I have become one now -
I writhe with my belly on the ground,
Dragging myself, hiding in dark corners.
I zigzag my way, slithering up and down,
Hoping to shake you off somehow,
But  you're stuck to my skin, a part of my grain,
So I'll just have to peel you off now;
And cut supplies to the affected zone;
To that part of me still stuck on you
Like lips to a frosty ice-pack.
So I shake off my languor, wrench all my bones,
Contract my mind and bend my soul;
And push all that's yours right to the verge.
Then I peel off my skin for it's numb anyway,
And patiently await till it's done;
Until I've tilted every inch of those scales
So I can writhe out in hope for a clue,
And as I slither away without you by my side,
I realise you'd peeled me off too...