I want to leave the blossoms ripening,

swelling in their own desire

and bite into their de-petaled bursting seed

instead of plucking buds to make crowns

I want to erupt from this rib cage,

I’d rather be worm if denied flesh

disembodied bone only turns to dust

at least  worm will turn to clay

Teach me how to dance away

From their groping feathery hands,

I want to be both fang and fruit

And keep all the juices for myself

I’ve been reduced to rib,

And tucked away into somebody’s chest

I thought myself woman, Lilith,

but was denied my woe, left displaced

and in my own body am only guest.

Yours, Eve


By Maria Orbay-Cerrato, Blog Editor

Featured image by Rinko Kawauchi 

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