Why is it that I can sense a snake in the grass and will run in the opposite direction

but when I felt you inching closer and closer to me I watched you like a National Geographical special, a child mesmerized by the carnival rides

with fascination and admiration.

Now, as I suck the poison out I remember that we are all animals, with our own niches and adaptations

and I can forgive you for sticking your fangs in me. At least the scars will fade.

But I know whenever I see a snake I will now taste bittersweet venom in the back of my throat,

and tears will prick my eyes because of the acid reminder of how oddly good it felt to be your prey.