The sword is heavy now. He forgets why he is there, in the cave, in the first place. He wants to ask the woman; orange-eyed and beautiful, who grasps his stony shoulders and walks back into his outstretched arms. Her skin is cool like wet stone or maybe moss. He smiles. Snakes kiss his face, and as he wraps around her scaled torso, breathing in the blackened lavender strands of her cobras, pythons, and black mambas, Medusa’s new lover wonders how he is finally content to remain so still.
About the Author: Coleman Bomar is a writer who currently resides in the mountains of East Tennessee. He’d rather write about bathroom graffiti as opposed to sunny days and dewy mornings even though he loves them. His works have been featured by and/or are forthcoming in 365 Tomorrows, Bewildering Stories, Altered Reality, Impressions Literary Magazine, The Scarlet Leaf Review, The Heartland Review, Danse Macabre, Anti-Heroin Chic, Showbear Family Circus Liberal Arts Magazine, Rats Ass Review, Nine Muses Poetry, Plum Tree Tavern, Prometheus Dreaming, SOFTBLOW, Poets’ Choice Zine, Coughsyrup Magazine, Isacoustic, Ethel Zine, Beyond Words, Terror House Magazine, Drunk Monkeys, and Eunoia Review.