God - Evening

Dry leaves crunch beneath
the weathered surface of her soles
as she walks through the garden at night.
Or have you forgotten about her already?
She walks towards banks of foliage
not stopping as the leaves graze
her naked body; she parts a green sea.
In the moonshine her colorless skin reflects
a world of beauty. What are light and darkness
compared to this? The air in her lungs
is the same that the stars breathe,
the same that makes them burn.
She could even breathe Jupiter
at this moment—if she knows it by that name.
She was never one for naming.

Where is Adam?
He is not here, not in the garden.
Some might say that he is dead
but others reckon he is still living, sleeping
under the stars that we now call Orion.
One thing is for certain:
he has left her. And where is Eve?
Eve isn’t here either. She too is sleeping
next to Adam, or his brother, or
his sister. She might be naked, she might
be clothed, but she is content.
Just content.

Dry leaves crunch beneath
the weathered surface of her soles
as she walks through the garden at night.
Or have you forgotten about her already?
Have you forgotten?