A Poem: The Apple

nianamills:

beautiful and red
crisp and juicy
sweet and delicious
the apple the serpent spoke of to me
I finger it - slowly
I pluck it from the tree
the knowledge of good and evil is before me
slowly I bite into it
the flavor erupts in my mouth
I hand the apple to man, to Adam
he looks at my bit
he smiles and finished the apple
the serpent smirks
and suddenly I am frightened
What have we done?

© Niana Mills

(via adventuringafar)