This Is Eve Poem by Heaven Fay

At the very least, yours is the first mouth.

Yours is the dandelion tongue that scatters me into pasture of blueberry, of apple soft with bite, of wind begging your Icarus heart:

please, let's me and you deliquesce our cold parts.

Let's me and you get caught by the sea every time we fall.

Let's me and you make home inside the tangle-green when you are afraid of the sun. Whom, by the way, I promise to freeze.

I will icicle her dagger and we will thaw into heaven's thighs, okay?

For at the very most, yours are the first fingers for my bloodletting.

Yours is my first howl to the moth-light.

Yours is sweet leech kiss siphoning all of the water out of me.

I am all blood body.