the garden

He glides,
              too graceful for
any species

Tastes each fruit,
each sweeter till
                        the next,
yet he feels
         
            discontent

The lush leaves are a
bed,
a dream,
a place to rest
                his head.

The snake curls around his
translucent arm,
hissing its wisdom.

In an

instant

a turn of light, it is
impossible
to discern
         
            who is who

The father, the mother, the
laws
yell

"STOP!

Before it's too
late!
Don't make us regret letting you
control your
fate."

Falls on deaf ears, for he is
struck immobile, as if blinded by a
forsaken
light.

Before him is the
sweetest
one
of
all.

An inner purity
curves her lips in a

smile.

An apple lies in her
poised, waiting
hand.

With a flicker of a shadow,
it is impossible to discern
              which is which.

She is more than a
goddess,
more than just a game.

They taught him a name
for this, but hers is

different.

He runs                                          She opens her arms
        slithers                                                    falls

                                    to
his                                                  her

                             
                      match...