Poem: Adam and Eve

adam / adamantly infatuated  

with eve / evening comes and 

i imagine them / emptied-out 

souls / entwined and barely alive / 

cast down into earth.

what must it feel like to fall for each other 

and know of nothing else? 

what, then, must it feel like to know 

there is so much more to fall for?

spitting out seeds of forbidden 

fruit like sworn planters 

awaiting first whispers 

of resurgence.

sweet juices of knowledge dripping 

down lips, thick sap dyeing 

grasslands into fields of orange; 

smarter and so much more ignorant in 

seconds, sides of mouth glistening with 

shame, delight —

each bite weighed down by the 

weightiness of an unannounced 

revolution: 

march on. 

father tells me 

god’s punishment for them 

was the cruelty of birth; 

that come to think of it 

eve is our mother of mothers

and us but a remnant of her past sins, 

heirs to rebellion.

and when i come home to freshly cut 

apricot slices placed perfectly on plates,  

i see the two of them chuckling at the 

formalities the future has grown into

peering from the garden of eden, 

pink juices trickling down chins.

our ancestors watch on / 

adam and eve / god’s finest 

creations / washing away the holiness 

of all the maker had in store