Eve 

tell me, eve,
how it felt to make scripture
out of your own name.
how adam wept
as you screamed
‘MY BODY IS NOT YOUR ALTAR.
MY LIPS DO NOT HOLD YOUR CONFESSION.’

tell me, eve,
how you looked the snake in the eyes
and took a hold of that apple.
you, rotting from the inside,
so tired of being soft
sick of your broken bible spine.
you, hungry to be more than the image
of man
hungry for more than a pair of lungs
filled with holy water.

tell me, eve,
how you held
two hearts in your hands.
how you looked at adam
and an apple
how you chose to wash your hands
of God and to drip gold instead.

tell me, eve
tell me that the universe
tasted like freedom.

By Kelsey Krempasky

Biography:

Kelsey Krempasky is a 22 year old writer currently attending the University of Manitoba in Winnipeg, Canada. In her spare time, she can be found buying more notebooks that she doesn’t need.