Eve is walking up some stairs,
he imagines falling off,
and then part of himself does.
from then on he can’t tell
whether he’s at
the top or the bottom
or the bottom or the top
“where is my head?” down there
“where is my child?” nowhere
he carried him like she carries him
black hair. blue eyes. tan skin.
different but the same.
Eve turns the corner and takes another step
upwards.
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 12:55 PM UTC
Eve is walking up some stairs,
he imagines falling off,
and then part of himself does.
from then on he can’t tell
whether he’s at
the top or the bottom
or the bottom or the top
“where is my head?” down there
“where is my child?” nowhere
he carried him like she carries him
black hair. blue eyes. tan skin.
different but the same.
Eve turns the corner and takes another step
upwards.
Request permission to use this poem