The air supports life.
The canopy of leaves keeps my skin ivory.
I am exposed and I am free.
The sun rises and falls and all I have ever seen
is the masterpiece of life that I am the mother of.
I sleep in peace.
I am never alone.
My bed is woven from soft vines.
No thorns or blemishes exist in my world.
I feel heat from the sun and I bathe in cool mist
from falling water.
My feet splash the water and moss goes through my toes.
I am alive and not alone.
My skin is sweet;
my hair is long and soft.
I do not hunger nor do I thirst.
I am full; always full.
Something slithers up my thigh and between my breasts.
A tongue tickles my neck and then the most beautiful golden fruit drops at my soft feet.
I take it like a wild animal and it is left to a few seeds.
The clouds roll in cold.
My soft feet crack
and I am alone with a scaled creature
hissing and as it goes I feel pain.
I know I am dead inside for I made sin come and be real.
I am Eve.
copyright 10-10-2008 Sarah Sisson
Sarah Sisson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-world-59/
