EveBoredom set in. Bored of the shine, the green,Eve
The Him.
Our utopia, a monotonous myriad Of the same shade of leaf,
Just depressed me.
He bathed in the purifying sun,
Cheeks pinking, yellow hair bleaching –
Whilst I hid in the shadows of that Tree,
My eyes greening.
He named them all.
And when I queried the female lion He lethargically answered,
“Lioness, I guess”.
Of course. Always quick to point to that stub of a left rib And remind me that I am his. That finger that touched Father’s,
Now pointing at me,
Erect
I Imagine It SoSkin so white, clean,I Imagine It So
But afraid of what is under a dress.
Though the mouth, so vernal, Whispers covetous thirsts for the sway of my hips,
The dew on my lips. What a lamb you are!
Sweet and trusting
Of the goat with red hair before you.
Your fair coat shall be sullied by morning.
You’re nervous.
In my blue shadow room It’s almost funny how plain you are.
Such unacquainted thighs,
Such decorum in the eyes. Well, on the outside perhaps.
But I know what lies behind those eyes
And I know what rises between those thighs
Late at
--
someone shot nostalgia in the back, someone shot our innocence
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