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Michèle Feltes


Eve's Apple

 

I was craving back then.

Its crimson curves pulsed among the leaves

alluring me to give in to its pleas.

My eyes were starry whirls,

Wells of wonder,

Not to be drowned.

 

I was ripe.

But he was not.

 

Not yet.

Then yet became a synonym of doomed.

 

I wasn’t aware of the aftermaths.

Its fragrance’s musky memory

still suffocates me.

My neck roots in this new knowledge,

A steady pillar,

Not to be bowed.

 

I was subjugated.

But he was not.

 

I became we.

Its tart nectar alleviated my watering mind

punished for this one blameful bite.

Our brains are just as capable as theirs,

A tragedy of thoughts,

Not to be muted.

 

We were dumbed down.

But they were not.  

 

We were cursed with pain.

Its juice dripped down my chin,

A harbinger of the cramps consuming us from within.

Our bodies are ruled by ebbs and flows,

A monthly trial,

Not to be denied.

 

We suffer then.

But they do not. 

 

We were silenced.

Its flesh yielded under my caress

yielded as we used to.

But they didn’t do.

 

Now I crave for harmony,

I wish we weren't theirs,

I wish they weren't ours,

But rather,

that we are all our own.

Everywhere.

Not only where news reports are shown.

Anytime.

Not only when sunrays sketch the skyline.

 

Am I sorry

For burdening you with so much to worry?

If I had resisted back then,

wouldn’t you have to resist forever again?

 

Wanting to be more than a rib

Provoked all that shit…

Knowing all this,

Would I dismiss?

Exchange the realization

For your salvation?

  

Yes.

No.

For sure.

Never.

 

How was a supposed to know?

 




Envoyé: 20:16 Sun, 24 March 2024 by : Michèle Feltes age : 19