I could do no wrong. I’m only the donor of a rib
And not a rib cage hiding a heart
That couldn’t stay silent. I only gave what was barely mine.
A little projection, one spoke of a chastity belt
I wore, until you came into this world.
We are not clones, only two different creatures.
And now I’m the sinner in an apple orchard.
The sin of wanting the apple on a tree,
Your tree. The apples that possess dappled moons
On them and shine like headlights
When I stare at you. You, what concentrates my inner will
And outer passion. A creature like no other.
Equally reticent and forthcoming, shy and bold
A hurricane and mistral.
I could not look the other way. The serpent
Had eyes of his own, wanting and needing were not
Siblings any more, there were a conjoint body
Crying for attention. I slithered towards you
And slowly unfurled my palms and touched the tip
Of your breasts and slowly laid a trail
Along your belly. You were softer than the fig leaf
Or any other leaf my palms had ever caressed.
I am consumed by a feeling, what leaks
Through the spaces left by the absent rib
The heart it seems was waling for touch, caress
Tip on surface. And I come close and touch
You with great difficulty, and smell you with ease,
Fingers seem to move slower
Than the nostril cartilages that were inhaling
The smell of your wilderness.
I look at the flowers inside your tresses
And the sunshine in your eyes. I can only be
The garment that dresses you and never your skin.
How beautiful it must be to hold your warmth
Wrapping every fragment of your inner wealth
As I look in to your eyes and I see
The beauty of longing reflected from you
And all I wish to do, is to kindle a little fire
On the tip of your lips.
And we sinned didn’t we? Of wanting more what the other had.
We were two bodies and one fire.
And we burned through night and dawn
Until Aurora crept through the Junipers
I don’t have words of thanksgiving to felicitate
Your universe. Yet I give this to you as a token
Of one feeling, which I cannot explain. It feels like
The whitewater we see, it moves through
The ribs and pectorals, it lifts the chest hairs
And makes me a man, who is crushed but raised
By that force of what flows through me.
All I ask is, hold me in that same way,
Concealed deeper in your rib cage. How grateful
I’m to the master who took my rib!
If not for him, I would look at still water
And make sprinkles and splashes
Feeling my own skin. How wonderful is sharing
One fire, one meal, one flesh and one god.
And through the oneness of being
We will make a race our own. A race that will
Span this world and make torches of their body
To perpetuate their kind. And that race will be special. Very special.
And long in to history we will stand
You and I, as the progenitors of our race….
So tell me what is this feeling called……?
When I feel you rise and sink, flow and ebb
Sing and dance. Maybe it is how we evolved from one rib
Perhaps “Evolve” spelled backwards.
“Ev-love”, could it be that feeling?
Since you’re Eve, I will call this impression “Love”