Black and White
create no boundaries,
just blurs of grey, of fighting,
of shade aspiring to color, well,
aspiring to be it,
enveloped in the folds
of canvases without brush
or artist,
and hands
stiff-stuck glued to table.
Constricted
within so much space
are snakes as serpents,
not vice-versa,
pulling prey apart
vilely, peacefully.

Yes, they do that, no?
I swear they do.
I’d bet my life on it.