poetry
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bedtime mythologies

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"The Fall of Man," Lucas Cranach the Elder

once i made love under an apple tree.
snakes were all in the branches, or
maybe just one. the man beneath me
was wide-eyed–it was his first time
inside me really seeing me.
i had to convince him for
he was scared of the sun looking on our skin.
he said the flowers were whispering and
calling us unclean–what would they think,
we had to hide our nakedness. i called out
WHY DO YOU WHISPER? WHY
SHOULD I CARE WHAT YOU THINK?
and no sound was heard. and i smiled, and
knew that i was good, and right, and
the fruit had been good, and ripe, and
i turned to my man and kissed him.

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