Drink your fill;
I am a fountain of youth and
temptation.
You call me Lilith,
I am yours to take
and please; mould my clay limbs
into something useful,
something to quench your sanity with
my dear (Lord).
An artifice,
inimitable and made yours.
And I? A pearl, hung
upon your bare neck – hold your breath.
Your best accessory; your magnum opus,
an ornament.
Depravity is only mortal,
but I have an offering, something soul-cleansing.
Not a woman! A girl-thing akin to
inamorata (you sometimes call me).
Needless is a reminder,
my blood is yours, and my bone is yours
and the cavity in my head is most definitely
and undoubtedly
yours.
YOU ARE READING
A Divine Lilith
PoetryA story of Lilith: Divine, as she was, as she is, as she will be. Who is Lilith? And what does it mean for a woman to exist in the world of Man and God? It has been said that before Eve, there was Lilith. Before li...
