Self-devouring serpent,

what is it that compels you to chew your own tail?

Time stretches on into infinity; you have all of it cradled in the pit of your stomach.

Is eternity not enough to whet your endless appetite?

The alchemical process for building the perfect homunculus

is fixed within your ravenous bite.

Poised at the tip of your tail, a mouthful of stars, mud, and blood—

you’re chasing everything and nothing in hungry loops.

In the middle of an anxious spiral, snakes will devour themselves.

When placed on a plate,

captive at the mercy of knife and fork,

will you loosen your jaw?

Or should I pour mouthwash over your maw so you may finally release yourself?

When you sit at the table for supper,

can you still say you’re starving if you’re forever eating?

The cycle of life and death is destined to drip out of human hands.

Like fruit squeezed into juice,

time is pulpy and bittersweet; we have all of it until we don’t.

Come your next iteration, who will you be?

Maybe we’re all going to eat ourselves at the end.

So right before we begin again,

I want to ask you:

BIO**