At first— new trembling and then she didn’t want to be—
as **** half-eaten evidence So she held it out to him with her half-hearted, “It's OK.” her crippling distance
“Why doesn’t she just embrace me as before?” He thought that he had never seen her eyes that way— with no words for their ruin he loved her fearfully more
Gorged in the aftermath of forbidden fat and animal fruit Sick with excuses Staring at the core of lust Rationalizing Food? Beauty? Intrigue?
Searing awful terror into each other’s minds
Part II. Love and War
In the years between the harrowed rows of sprouting corn they found pleasure without plan that bound them more than guilt had severed
How curious the textures of a man in sunlight
her power? In all the brilliance she had bargained for
How curious this burning for her in the sodden life of rotting
She was always holding him now from the scorching day as the earth sizzled and swam in seas of senseless— background drone of locust and revenge sealed in sweat and clutching labor
She was always holding him back by night from the icy crackling mad! his restless hunting hate! And sometimes, while she pleaded he would seize her Make her pay!
For that afternoon
by the well where the boy was washing A basket of vegetables returned a bowl of blood
Part III. Grief
Prepare the darling carcass Shroud it in her pleas clawing in the mud beside its silence consumed beyond all fire by her anguish “Can this not be enough to make him move? Yes! He did! I’m sure I saw it!” Can this not be enough?” to stop the knowing… grief from pouring into space?
Not even light escapes ____
Returning from the Mount of Meeting hollow chores collecting fatwood grinding joyless grain
From corner of her eye she watches the boy walk toward the forest spear in hand She pauses looking down at hands on stone that once had cradled... Breath catching on jagged sorrow
She continues to grind
Part IV. Endings
Descended now Reclining heap reflects before a sun’s surrender His face gleams with last light hair blown back by volleys of wind
Her face Not visible as we are behind them Her head rests in his lap She is on her side Soles of her shoes mute and toward us His eyes search the sky for a god—any god! Her God
Exhaustion poses them past the point of question When the matter of “Why?” becomes each other
the net of twilight Dulled of hope and pain at the edge of all that can be done...
...everything is gray going on black— but we always knew that
My take on an old story that reverberates through all time. She sinned-- to know the mind of God. He sinned because he loved her.