Eve's Elegy

What if God would have said: Though shalt not eat from any fruits of the garden.

Would we then, have slowly died?



measuring out the time of starvation, cramming our passion and love and pain

into a fig season,
 a transformation of green bulbous beauties

into the purple skins 
that shred beneath our fingers -

You crush the little seeds 
with your thumb,
 forgetting
that it is they
 who will decorate 
our freshly dug graves.



But of these fruits you shall eat freely: Passion and Love and Pain.



No food touches our lips, but instead we feel
the lightness of air 
upon our cheeks,
 and: your lips
are sucking me like a raspberry.



The fig leaves crumble.

They look: 

"Parched."



you try to say,
 but your lips are shriveled up like dry figs
as I cover you with my brown body.

The apple-tree blossoms
 slowly turn into fruit,
a harvest neither one of us will see.



The figs fall gently
 into the brown earth 
as you and I will fall

into the dust,
 decaying into each other 
like the purple
 pulp that lines the pathway to -


What if God would have said nothing at all?