MY SON TELLS ME
the best way to exorcise a loose tooth,
is to sink your fangs into the flesh of an apple.
I wonder,
was Eve craving a bite of sin, or just itching to unhinge
her famished jaw and snack on the sweetness
of sovereignty?
First daughter,
destined to disappoint her father, just a splintered rib
wishing to be a matchstick, yearning to be licked
by wonder's flame.
I tell my son –
once, a curious woman plucked an apple from a wise old
tree, filling her enlightened belly – 'til one day, God
yoked her with man's shame.
Eve, mother
of choice, born from earth's molten marrow, she
who was destined to catch ablaze and burn
for the mistakes of men. She ate
and found paradise anew.
Praise be.
- Alisha Skeel
