eve’s truth
Birthed from your rib, I have been molded by you. The red soil stains my flesh where fresh life once gleamed. My skin is raw and stale from the night before. Promises of it being an accidental flick of your wrist spiral from your drunken lips. Why again is the clay in my eyes? All that can be heard are the isolated cries of the birds with no sign of the great divine. Was it the devil talking or the snake? Your open palm sinks into my face like the teeth that sunk into the apple. You were given a clear command to avoid the tree of life but you left me no other choice. I am coerced to the center of the garden by the disguise of sweet apple juice. It was only a rotted fruit. I cover my skin with the leaves of the trees but nothing can rid the impression of you from my temple.
Testifying in front of God, you cry that I begged for the fruit. We are both banned from the Garden of Eden for eternity yet only I am given a mark on my name. You are swimming in a pool of morality while I am drowning. The water cleansing you of your sins, forever protected by your broken idea of virtue while I long to wash away the feeling of you.