the dark

I know the dark—
the anaconda
coils my body
throttles my breath

drowning for air
I tear at the thing
bloody my hands
wear myself out
it could take me

I turn toward
the dark, drink it in
move through it
tune my ear
is that a note?

finally the faintest
gossamer of chant
the coils writhe
and fall away
I gulp air, flee
toward the song

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.