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Precious May 2014
Leonora stands on a balcony, absent-mindedly , all the city life has blurred her ability to stop and devour the city skyline. She stares at her diary flooding with ideas and pieces of writing she doesn't know what she'll do with.

Her attention is filled with ecstacy because of the morning cigarette of thinly wrapped marijuana, she occasionally puffs along with a glass of expensive white wine she barely can afford. She doesn't know it yet but her being lost is her being on track's  way.  The morning star breaks dawn as she sits on her chair and crumples the pages of her diary writing her recently found adoration of sunrise.

The clothes covering her petite figure, her big unkempt natural afro and barely furnished apartment looks modern but her spirit still roams the valleys of back home.



The Lost One is never lost
Your ceramical-faced poetry is heartening, despite its woe. As long as gangrene doesn't claim my frost-bitten toe, I'll be able to swim against storm currents without flippers, on a diet of trout & kippers while you must β€œlive” on imitation chocolate wafers & tap roots, dog parts & Cebu City bamboo shoots. It could be cranial-5-nerve trigeminal neuralgia, the suicide disease, that plays like the sledge-hammering of jangled vibraphone keys. I feel not my left lung, nor my palate & tongue after losing a gangrenous toe on a broken ladder rung.
As long as gangrene doesn't claim my frost-bitten toe, I'll be able to swim against storm currents without flippers, on a diet of trout & kippers while you must β€œlive” on imitation chocolate wafers & tap roots, dog parts & Cebu City bamboo shoots. It could be cranial-5-nerve trigeminal neuralgia, the suicide disease, that plays like the sledge-hammering of jangled vibraphone keys. I feel not my left lung, nor my palate & tongue after losing a gangrenous toe on a broken ladder rung.
The Story as I Understand It
Leonora Speyer

In my opinion, I understand the story. From biblical times to now, as I write a little note to Leonard Speyer, I believe that Eve was misled by Adam all along. Adam was approached by the Serpent long before Eve came to the Garden of Eden. The Serpent knew that he was no match for her, so he intended to bring her down. Her looks intimidated him, and her beauty was unmatched. Beauty without brains is a myth; she had what it took. Man is weak because he is easily influenced by external temptations and lacks the strength to resist them.
The apple in the garden was for showmanship. It wasn't real. Did they mention if the birds picked at the apples? From experience, a bird would pick at the apples, so if they did, they sinned too. There were nine of us in the home. My mother would willfully leave money, food, and other stuff to tempt us to see which of us would eat it or take it, knowing it was forbidden to take things without asking permission. Today, women are being blamed for the weakness of men. The more the blames, the stronger women become. The apple was just the key to the knowledge of good and evil: curiosity kills the cat. The apple was the way out of the garden to go and seek. Those two were the Gen Z of biblical times in my opinion. Adam and Eve were considered the pioneers or trendsetters of their era.

— The End —