Mary Helen Porter
artist - curator
Eve
I am Eve laying bone dry
Under silver stars that pirouette
In the lake’s reflection of God.
This is what He is like:
He touches the earth knowing
That if I swim to the forbidden star
My embrace will expose only the intangible illumination
So that I am alone.
Even the placement of a shoulder cannot please my knees.
Not the promised “good” will make me believe.
Not the bite of an apple.
Not a sideways smile held back by a damn.
Only a tinted tear made a glow
By an insect infested lamp post.
By the lake where I shared my fears
Of drowning in the impressioned midnight sky.
Searching for gun powdered stars:
Useless as counting the bullets found
In my material heart.
Recoil spring in winter’s cave.
Adam is sitting next to
A fiddling brook
Warm with blue green crooks
While today I forget to die.