The tips of my two thin fingers stare back at me. The white fluorescent bathroom lights with yellow taint form the illusion that my nails are slim, red eyes, those of a snake.
The Snake points at my mouth, daring me to say any kind of reluctance because, at that moment, it will take its opportunity to strike.
What I eat, the Snake eats, and it demands to be fed.
I open my mouth, silent as a mouse. This is our little secret.
Then the Snake strikes!
Over and
Over and
Over.
Until it has fulfilled its bottomless gut and left me emptied and weak. I hunch over from the pain coming from my abdomen and the Snake hunches over in a delightful exhaustion.
When the Snake falls asleep, I sluggishly move to the sink and give it a bath and let her rest for her work that will come later. I catch a quick glimpse at my reflection, not wanting to stare for too long, partially ashamed of the event that just took place but I am also partially satisfied with the outcome.
My waist looks
small.
My arms
slender.
My lips
bright red.
My body is
stunning!
Superb!
Sexy.
I walk out of the bathroom and yes, I kiss my mother with those lips.
-Hanna Guzman (2021)
