it wasn't eve with genesis in her dew-bejeweled eyelashes
that woke the rift with the juice of knowledge coating her
prehistorically pink tongue.
it wasn't eve with the language of the birds nestled in her hands
that heard the whisper of serpentine secrets
slither down from the perch of her sisters.
it wasn't eve with unborn nations in her belly that allowed
shame to pull away the curtains of their innocence as dawn
set the stage for their costumes.
it wasn't eve with god's name in her heart that forgot to worship
with her body and mind when she was consumed with the mistake
of love.
the story has carried a masculine slant through the ages
and the daughters of eve have carried the hate.
the first lie lives on well seasoned
and we continue to believe
while we carry adam's apple
to humanity's grave.