The Folly that is Eve

To the one who I feel has fallen from the same proverbial branch as I: though we land on separate fields and our colors change to suit that law called evolution, we remain to be the same fruit. We aren't as alone as we often think. It's not that good but the poem made me think of you. Maybe next time, you can teach me how to be truly deep and insightful- orgasmic as you say. I would love that. Then I could make better poems.

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I have fallen,

far from the withered limb

that had borne my flesh.

Rushing past

jeweled leaves

and carven bark,

I lie in breathless wait.

Beneath the sun-dappled canopy

between Eden’s flesh and Adam’s kiss

I lie.

I lie.

I lie in wait.

See my puckered flesh,

bruised skin soaked in morning dew,

I am succulent to the core.

See them all,

my silent worshippers

partaking of me like the holy Host.

I lie.

I lie.

I lie in wait;

within the confines of this Universe,

I have taken nature’s course.

Keep me still

while the world flails unbound.

I am a ditch where I have fallen, now.

I am permanence, yet lost.

Wilting, withering, browning the red

as rust fades the vision of spring.

I have cast my innards through the flesh,

sweet meat scavenged and left

for smaller things to feed upon

and then, yet, nothing

I am falling, falling, falling still.

Watch the swirls shift and form

but I remain a single entity

against the old Telon.

Where I land; pain

swelters like heat that,

once upon a different chance

could—was—love;

that I live

despite the ripping

pulls me deeper into no man’s land.

And so I lie

I lie

I lie in wait.

I love you, Otzi.