I sometimes think you are fall-out from the explosion of Heaven,
A soft, red remnant of the idyll.
You are a piece of paradise,
A piece of perfection,
Shining in the brown darkness of earth.
Your eyes burn with the fire of your soft red blood,
Sealed inside a pale yellow-white skin
And so I sometimes think you are Eve's apple, flung inside-out
In the explosion of Heaven.
Copyright 2000