top of page

Eve  
by Carrie Guimond

​

Would you believe how sweet the juice

that burst through skin as mouth met fruit?

 

Or how sweet the shudder the forked-

tongue against my ear, delivered? 

 

Adam, from whose rib I owe my breath,

brook my burning offering in this debt. 

 

Let me be what Lilith couldn’t. Come,

the sagely serpent anticipates—

 

Yes, I heard our Father’s warning:

Don’t touch the forbidden fruit.

 

You mustn’t fret; what is good is gray.

Idle hands are the tools of lovers. 

 

Alone. Together. My beloved, let

us uncover clandestine pleasures.

​

ualr.edu/equinox

© 2023 Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page