WHO IS SHE? WHERE IS SHE? HOW DID SHE GET HERE?

WHO IS SHE, WHERE IS SHE, HOW DID SHE GET HERE? Lingam. Snake. Giver and taker of life. Curled like a womb in comfort and protection. The only escape through the tunnel. She is at a point of no return. Alone, breathless, silent except for the sound of her lungs crying out for air in a dark crevasse. Attached only by umblical cord, a hangmans rope dangling, half conscious, half confused, swept into the corner like a discarded piece of flesh. Dulcified. The space is bubbling with hot vapours, lava curling up against something creeping. Two blue marbles pierce the darkness and with a blink of the eye disappear into her fear. She seems an easy prey. The slimy creature hisses in excitement, advancing towards her. It’s gaze is fixed upon her destiny. White fangs ready to spit venom into her body and entrance her with its seductive poison. Birth and death. The game starts. To hypnotise her into a trance is the first objective, then strike, bite and administer the venom.Thereafter she will act according to the rules. Steadily her senses will be tranquilised, blinded, speechless, immobalised with no sense of direction. Then the monster will wrap itself around her like a hangman lovingly preparing the noose, like lava around Pompeii, like maggots around the tea table, wrapped up like a cocoon, womb becomes tomb, lingam squeezing the life out of mother giving birth. Her lungs cry out “I am breathless, for god’s sake inhale me.” Stricken by the deep, cruel intention lurking behind those blue eyes, she is helpless, crumbling, yet drawn to lay down paralysed in awe, at the feet of the footless. Fatal attraction kills rationality. Her frivolousness incites the creature to more action. It starts to release threatening sounds whilst advancing closer and closer. Death’s door opens waiting to swallow and she begins to shake like a chankana. Rattle baby’s rattle snake. At the back of her mind she knows that she must escape her paralysis, gather up the fragments of her 'self' to fight back. Now. Take the first step, for God’s sake, take the first step. The reptile can smell her determination. This is a battle of wills. Send more hypnotic shrills. Send more hypnotic shrills. Send more hypnotic shrills. Waves of vibrations, snake rattle and roll with her intention and she can feel herself weakening. Stumbling, vision blurred, she falls into the gutter. She has been laying there for years. Numbed by the systematic denegration inflicted upon her by an abusive man. Who is she? Where is she? How did she get here? The beast is waiting for her to regain some consciousness, so it can continue the game. Like a cat would a mouse and a snake would a pussy. (Prelude from my novel: SVERA JANG)