A Poem by Anon ymous
She sits at the left hand of God when he decides
to take the serpent’s side. Takes his voice
and calls it her own. Calls Eve her sister
even as she steals Adam away
the moment he bites into the apple.
Winds her way down the crowded streets
of Nod; jeans slung low, hips a swagger,
ready to start a revolution.
She builds a hinge for the sky,
swings it open
and closed, names it the beginning;
names it love.