Her defiance shed a void as she
drowned herself in rhapsody,
words neither spoken nor exchanged;

(safe to assume divinity at the helm)

heaven became weary and
eclipsed into a frigid night.

Piercing her naked eyes, he
glared from down below at the very
roots of that forbidden one hanging
from above, barely out of his reach.

His futile attempt to gather snippets
of core percepts from her passionate
gestures went in vain while "time‟ was set to
evolve from a concept to a harsh reality
for the earthlings to be in the making.

Nothing now too trivial a substance
beyond our rhetorical tongues that
twist, flip, and leak the wounds left
eons ago, when accosted to take
a load off that very first bite.

(a vestige remains of their first dialogue yielded
from dialectics rest among the presaged echoes.)

Perhaps genesis of our symbiosis
precipitated from apple puréed cosmic dust.



Repost: Toronto August 9, 2025