She is the garden.
I am the snake.
I taste the plums of her feet with forked tongues
And coil around the roots of her lungs
A forbidden tree, my lustful fruit
I brush along the hollow branches of her ribs
I feel her earth.
I taste her stemmed neck
Sometimes I smell her honey breathe
We sit entwined, snake and
Tree. I see Adam alone in his innocence.
Sometimes, she will spread her arms apart
And let me discover all that Adam will never be.
It is more than the fruit, this love,
This love of taste and touche and smell.
Her face is alabaster, a mask of perfection.
In her darkness she pales at my
Knowledge of the carnal and the eternal.
But then the Fall.
I am the snake and
Stain the beauty of the garden.
