The serpent coils. And it glows with the embers of  petrified sweat. It spreads its wings in the darkness of infinitude. And it coils in collusion with memories, and desire. It feeds on your fear and grows on your sighs. And it coils.

From deep down your stomach, you smell a tepid claustrophobic noxious odour of  despair. It slimes away, you catch it and then feel it slipping away from your grasp in the next moment. You try once again. But it coils and hisses.

The hisses provoke you, excite you. You derive a masochistic pleasure in being stalked and evaded. And then the pheromones, and the dulcet hisses. The momentary pain soon becomes a forbidden pleasure.

 The serpent also realises that maybe. It coils tighter. And hisses more. And just when you wish it strikes you, you notice the eyes. The cold steely green gaze. No, it wont be over so soon. The eyes wink!