Treasure Island

Deborah DeNicola

(Richland, Washington)

Eve, Eons After

Eve, Eons After

It was like the genie effect.
We were sucked into the hole
at the lower left of the garden.

I wanted to know the opposite
of Eden—to compare in order to love more
what we had. No—I am already lying,

sinning against the gift. The thought
to separate from God was immediate,
an unraveling, imagining something other—

than beauty. Now grief, now guilt,
abstractions I couldn't name before.
Where orchids once were

perfect, all color gone. In their place,
angry weeds and torched fields. We fell
into the abysmal, walls grew mountainous,

spiked rocks underfoot where once was grass.
Here it rains shame. Night
goes on all hours, dims my thoughts

of dirty chores that call off morning.
Adam stares and sleeps like a book
with pages missing. I can't recall

the sky-scent of daylight, the shade
of the olive branch. I am naked, deep
in my torn aura. We asked for this

and then forgot. Eden hidden now
behind the veil that fell. Or so we think...
and thought creates—

the glass darkly.

Submitted: Wednesday, August 06, 2014

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