idleness of circumstance
Eve had gone
sinew as forest twine
flesh spit drowned flattened
meek without doctrine
clinging to
the something of the sun
solar passage
lunar dip
death had a taste
but not a flavour for now
he would seek
Eve
no soiled mattress
or overgrown brothel
he thought
he was his own keeper
Eve his zoo
garden foliage gleam
waiting
a worm feeling frost
not the sun
she would come
patient to those demands
but he is the compliant
not she
she is the earth
the very nature of the garden
each blossom
each fragrance
a hint of paradise

Now an #NFT on Sing the app for iPad