For One Taste Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Flesh
so lush
who knows
this fruit could
taste so sweet and
beguiling, distorting all
innocence fallen. This pure
gift, each bite of slows my breath
casts, my tongue to sin, and my will, to
fall hungering so deep that my soul weeps.
For love is cast, white for black; marked
by one sweet taste. Who knew that I
had this serpent's contort, human
yet not ashamed to confess of
heart and straining back that
does impart as an enemy
and attacks, this fruit's
tenderness thrillingly
willingly, wantonly
with all abandon.
AMI giving all that IAM
fruit that robs one of life?
Loose mortal waste, in trial a
broken, seen entity's flesh which
genuinely gives soul up, for one taste?