genesis

sixty thousand stars form the shape of a mouth, it speaks and there are days

that turn to weeks; a cosmic carpet of them, unrolling spherically into

these months that have become years

since time first trickled in through the living leaves

and what is bliss, woman wonders, without its opposite

what is its opposite

why

each balmy dusk Eve sits with the centermost tree, asks it in whispers how long have i been waiting? what fear keeps me here awake at night?

 

what is fear?

this eve she hunts down Adam, her pupils ablaze

in her hand, an open fruit slavering like wombflesh

bloody juice all up her forearm

guilty lipstick

talking talking

she presses the drippy quince into Adam’s palm

in love, he eats of it 

knowledge is tart and sharp going down

Serpent murmurs like television inside the distant distance 

Adam holds his bride

on the garden’s perfect floor; v’s humanity opens up in her, painful as pried petals,

fills her with a vacuum so loud it is bright, still

Adam holds her in fear as her body squeezes out of his and locks up tightly around her

her eyes melt and regenerate / melt and regenerate / by the heat of the light beyond the gates

with knocker snarling in branding-iron orange, they open

bidden