Before we were snakes, entwined. I remember the soft slither of your skin, scales that moved and moved and wrapped around, we were one, but then we itched and lost our skin. I itched and I thought I'd never want anything else but that skin to fall, and then I felt you deeper, like I'd never known, then we tightened and brushed off that skin. Over and over again we had our new skins, and now all I can feel is the air between us, and my skin rains off like some senseless waterfall and I see you but you don't see me, your skin still new.