By Michele Vavonese
By Michele Vavonese

By Carine Topal

I have amused my body, lord, came whole through the fire of a kiss, lord, leaving the dishes, swathed in syrup, edged in crumbs, lord, left the love of home and wept in his mouth with hope, lord, wept in the entry of lust until he too moaned, and I swear, lord, it was all we could do to contain ourselves, lord, to keep us alive as we repeated the sin once again, (heaven help us), and though the angel above my bed glanced down and winked, I believe she winked, her ancient holy eye, lord ─ a product of age, ashes and dust ─ this made me question the very act, lord, and accept the wrath, that might come to me from you. Forgive me, forgive the hands which tied me down, tied me up, lord, so that Adam, so that Eve —  resurrected in this room — could see the light, understand the mystery of their hopeless beginnings, welcome the immense sacrifice which they made from the fruit of a simple tree. I have waited, lord, years, in the pocket of my thighs, to revile myself in such a way. Give me hope with a word, his word, that soon, another time, we will again, one upon the other, close to you lord, close to the heaven that we made this time, sin.

Previously published by Hinchas de Poesia

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