deepundergroundpoetry.com

day one of a new life .


                 
                     
.                      
                     
                     
                     
adam, still starry-eyed                      
talking apples          
and possibilities              
of biting into the      
forbidden                     
         
it makes          
the lady                      
blush,scream,moan                      
-digging dark nails                      
into white cotton                      
while curtains wave                      
the evening breeze                      
into steamed                           
bedroom mist            
         
she, thanks the world                      
while screaming                      
"I'm coming!"                      
from a rib;                      
once thought    
to be her own                      
having learned                      
from the illegal fruit's                      
hallucinations                    
they were his                      
before her mother                      
knew of embryo                    
                     
modern men                      
know                   
foundation,powder,blush                      
lip-stick                      
reside in small compartments                   
of the purse                      
she calls "my bag"                      
-he knows how to get it                      
in a moments notice                      
which                
was part of the                      
all-seeing agreement                
made with a serpent                      
in a garden, on the day                      
he saw her breasts as                
more significant than      
life support                      
-the same day her ass                      
was worth mentioning                      
at a university convention                      
on                      
"life-after-day-zero"                      
                     
while psychologists                      
labeled him                      
attention-deficit;                      
not taking the brush                      
of her hair                
or her foot tattoo                     
into account                                
                     
she, laying face up          
counting galaxies                      
looking for comets          
and shooting stars                      
in the aftermath                      
wonders if                      
it started when                     
they                      
wrote "forever" on the                      
back of a paper napkin                      
in a dive                      
without      
an oxygen tank          
                   
                     
                     
                     
[x]                      
                     
                     
.                      
                     
                     
 
Written by RevolutionAL (Alistair Plint)
Published | Edited 6th May 2022
Author's Note
...For Wifey.
( who is very much a Depp fan! )
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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