By: Delaney McLinden

I’d seen scales on a snake.

I can imagine scales on the loch ness,

or scales a roof.

I never thought I’d see her grow them too.

Dinner’s confetti glued with slime to her face. 

The reflective armor slithered up her hands

and shed on my skin;

Her toothy grin was a reptile’s, 

and slits for eyes rolled back in her head.

Her tongue forked with lies, 

her blood bathing in venom

under a pale shield,

with a blade’s name carved in.

Her mind under murky water,

Her body no longer coiled,

Her glittering pink claws.

Spineless and sick, 

she couldn’t even stand upright.