So I guess it was convenient for you to turn your back on the woman who held your spine.

Woman – you were brought fourth from my side- created to support me like the gravity stricken moon does to brisk breath of nightfall- but when fear clawed its way into my heart when he called my name in the garden you shrunk and hid your shameful body-

Where were you?

When the prince of night found his way to your star, you watched him lie… I watched you sit and set like sun you morning of a man. You can’t even see the nightmare you have become.

I was there, standing in the distance having a conversation with my backbone. I wanted to stop you but you let that evil reptile with eyes slow dancing with deceit and tongue swift as breeze woo you dumb to think we could be wise as the God who thought the galaxies into existence.

Adam, I thought he was my friend, letting me in on secrets God pinky promised the leaves not to tell. He pointed me to the tree, told me of what I was missing and as my faith in his lies led me to stare, I watched death become gorgeous.

But God is beautiful.

Adam, my tongue became sight. The fruit looked too good not to-

Taste

-and see that God is Good

God is thief. He kept us from the one thing he knew would turn our minds deity.

No God is wise, Eve cant you see? In our feast for knowledge we have become fools, searching for wisdom in a mere branch we forgot about the God who had the power to grow us from dust with no roots. His mind is wide as sky and we were free as clouds, but now the silent hum of shame echoes the land–the eerie chill of fathers curse crawls across our conscience and the very river we bathe our naked souls in is damned because of you.  What have you done?

Do not blame me for murder and name yourself victim as if we are not both ghosts with skin.

You left me for dead. Did you forget the sixth day when God made you?

From dust.

But he made you from me for me! While sleeping he carved you from my caged bones beautiful, but you with your pride of dis-positioned switched positions and tried to lead, took heed to a snake without consulting me first. You didn’t respect me!

He gave you authority. He made you the head of us but you became neck. I can still see the apple stuck in your throat, Adam. Swallow your pride. You were supposed to lead me, yet I am to blame? Your wife, your Eve, the one who is now shame once beauty the moment you saw her breath. Maybe, I should noose a ribbon around my neck, make a skirt of wrapping paper, stuff my natural naked chest with leaves. Maybe then these bones will be enough gift for you again, this flesh enough body for you to bathe in. The day you removed God from your soul. Emptied your nest of his glory is the day you begged me to take his place. Fill your voids, become this image of perfection to satisfy your insecurities.

God forbid.

-Our sons grow up treating their sisters like cemeteries. Stacking their bodies and bones in one closet to wear as one flesh every time they want to feel alive.

Eve please understand that you further prove my point. That prideful o