xvi. THE STORIES THEY DON'T TELL AT BEDTIME.
break the bible by its spine.
tell adam beauty is more
in revenge than in gluttony.
envy the serpent for the venom
on it's tongue, how empty adam
must feel now that his bones are
made into the wrath of human life.
the first bite of the sweet red apple,
watching eve as she foams from the
mouth. the garden of eden doesn't
look the same with the taste of blood
in the back of his throat.
the consumption of pride and lust
as her dead eyes turn lifeless.
playing make belief at its finest.
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
