Genesis

I wouldn’t know you from Adam

In all your sin and glory, and I, in mine

Nameless and faceless

Distinguished not from a lover but twice before

And your skin, bathed by the ocean for taste

To me, remains foreign, draped from your bones, renowned in its beauty

Your presence, an empty variable

Much like my name

Eloquent and simple

A minor detail, negligible to your intentions

Yes my name, a mere punctuation

On a line

On a dog eared page in your book

A wormhole to an era where recklessness knew not of empathy or compassion

And as I recollect a passage

The tips of your fingers slither down

My spine

Like a serpent

Enticing and irrefutable

Conscious yet naïve, still

I sink my teeth into

And lick the forbidden juice as it sinks down to my lips

Dismissing my mother’s fate,

I dive into your veins

Lying through my teeth, my fingertips,

My lips

I surrender my bones to you, like the you before you

And when the passage remains

And I am left

Cold and ashamed

Standing outside of the rapture 

Outside of my body and outside of the garden

On those turned sheets,

You close the door behind you

Soon let it commence, blasphemy until

A new he knocks,

And yet

I wouldn’t know him from Adam