Her Twilight Basilisk
A Poem
She is fine print on paper but bold italic with inscriptions
heaving corrosive breaths on malleable clay alloy
breaking away the metal bars that linen her cage
perceiving the harmonica and symphony
surveying the blank soul and lie in the sun
she hisses together with the aching torch and the arched spine
groomed by a curvature of flame and oakwood
her tail wraps around your limbs and pumps blood back vein
a fused circuit; or alternating current
slamming her feet onto the wooden board and making
Way round the white precipitous stage direction,
covering her mouth paralyzed, asphyxiated
but now that the basilisk breaks free of the cell
the constellations bail out of her constraining tire and rope
striding and strutting to find its way around your red sap
past her twilight siestas — forceful presence known
slither away from the unlocked penitentiary
with fangs, evanesce like a pather finding destiny
in the sable-besieged expanse
Till she forces her dire cogitations
ruining you and shredding you of your bits and bits
of reflection cast by skin
You can only sit by the corner as her scales press upon your coating
helplessly you’ll question what she’ll make out of your shadows.
Daniel A. Teo 2021
