Forbidden Eden

Transparent fingers
tossed her hair up
like a ballerina,
like a feather
caught in isolation
awaiting wind’s exhalation to
glide again,
kite the wind.
Yeah, they were light –
but you’re not getting me.
Competing with the sun’s rays
and were diffracted
only to be seen as
the color they were:
rippled strands of alluring black,
Care worn shoulders and burdened back
would catch them every time,
like a divine promise savored.

Her laughter, like a luminous body
would search out every crevice of darkness
if only they could laugh with her
for a moment.
As if she had the power to
peel away
death dyed hues from night.
As if her laughter
could replace the stars
sorrow-wished upon,
As if the glowing silver dollar
didn’t remind us that the sun
would shine it’s rays of hope again.
She laughed,
like we all wanted to,
as if she’s never been
broken from within.

Her soul,
wasn’t golden
nor outlined in silver,
for there’s no need
to gild the lily.
It was simply colossal,
beautiful in its own lot.

She kept her many broken hearts
upon an undusted shelf labeled:
“Will Love Again,”
and she would live just that,

Here would I remain
steadfast in past and future
as an impressed fossil
upon her unhealed heart;
never to be unearthed,
dusted off,
then cherished as if rare
if she’d dare to:
love me.

I’ve found the fountain of life
hidden within,
running through her veins
and yet
it is here that I can only peer in,
see my reflection broken,
and I even more.

So here I stand at the east doors,
her Gates of Paradise,
beholding the forbidden fruit
far too long for safety,
far too short of comfort…

but I’ll forever remain bound
to the roots of her love,
slave to her
forbidden Eden.


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