Genesis

The smell of something
I cannot tell
Salt from honey
In the liminal garden
Limbo of Eden
Thirteen thousand
Muscles move
Across my chest
Hissing whip
Of sin on my shoulder
I listen to flicking
Tongues in my ear
And feel
The inaugural shiver
Slippery fingers
Reaching for
Renaissance
Trying to scratch
The forbidden itch
I’d walk out on heaven
For a taste of desire
Red wine and pleasure
Even cold wind
And hunger
Must be sweeter
Than the nothing Of this