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Happy and content in this garden of delight, yet curiously alone. Am I one of a kind? On the verge of sleep as the sun slips under its blanket. After the butterflies, after the somnolent dream, I was bestirred by what first seemed a chimera. The grace and splendor of a remarkable creation, and there she stood making doe eyes, a twinkle of a smile curling about her lips. At once I was besotted, God had bequeathed to me His crowning achievement, and into my care she was placed. So much to impart, so much to share. Together now as united residents, one flesh, she will complete me, and I will dote on her. A gift to always cherish as we walk hand in hand. Her task each new day is strolling about paradise in search of nourishment, to feed us from the fruitage therein, lest one tree’s offering. And yet this morning, another voice summons to be heard, the rasped utterances of the cunning, with tales of his own kingdom coming, one nibble to freedom, she was assured. How I wish she’d taken her leave. She proved too inquisitive, it took root, this germination, and there she lingered. Eyes caught, unblinking, her open heart heavy with wanton hunger. Who whispered unto you, my darling? Standing before me I surrendered to her, an ill-fated collusion, co-conspirators to sin. We ate in the shadow of a silver birch and awakened to our nakedness. Eyes wide open! Discomfited, we struggled to conceal our shame What has happened to us, dearest? Avowal and discord. Trouble and strife. "It was the woman you gave me!" "It was the serpent," she countered. A betrayal to our God neither of us wished to confess. Dust had been thrown in her eyes, my transgressions were clear-sighted. Together now as evicted tenants, flawed, imperfect flesh, she will pine for me, and I will reign over her. Oh, how I vanquished this gift, this blessed union. What tragedy, what irony: As I take her hand, I also fully understand she is now eternally, irrevocably, lost to me...
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Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 8:55 AM UTC
"The Woman You Gave Me"
Happy and content in this garden of delight, yet curiously alone. Am I one of a kind? On the verge of sleep as the sun slips under its blanket. After the butterflies, after the somnolent dream, I was bestirred by what first seemed a chimera. The grace and splendor of a remarkable creation, and there she stood making doe eyes, a twinkle of a smile curling about her lips. At once I was besotted, God had bequeathed to me His crowning achievement, and into my care she was placed. So much to impart, so much to share. Together now as united residents, one flesh, she will complete me, and I will dote on her. A gift to always cherish as we walk hand in hand. Her task each new day is strolling about paradise in search of nourishment, to feed us from the fruitage therein, lest one tree’s offering. And yet this morning, another voice summons to be heard, the rasped utterances of the cunning, with tales of his own kingdom coming, one nibble to freedom, she was assured. How I wish she’d taken her leave. She proved too inquisitive, it took root, this germination, and there she lingered. Eyes caught, unblinking, her open heart heavy with wanton hunger. Who whispered unto you, my darling? Standing before me I surrendered to her, an ill-fated collusion, co-conspirators to sin. We ate in the shadow of a silver birch and awakened to our nakedness. Eyes wide open! Discomfited, we struggled to conceal our shame What has happened to us, dearest? Avowal and discord. Trouble and strife. "It was the woman you gave me!" "It was the serpent," she countered. A betrayal to our God neither of us wished to confess. Dust had been thrown in her eyes, my transgressions were clear-sighted. Together now as evicted tenants, flawed, imperfect flesh, she will pine for me, and I will reign over her. Oh, how I vanquished this gift, this blessed union. What tragedy, what irony: As I take her hand, I also fully understand she is now eternally, irrevocably, lost to me...
Carlo-C-Gomez
Written by
56/M/The Exclusion Zone
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 8:55 AM UTC
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