lightning
it hit at noonday
set her soul on fire
set her mind to turning
god made eve again
once she fed the devil to man
now she feeds man to the devil
apples are sweetest
when crafted in thunder
the rain bounces off skin
all by design
ants build anthills
until one looks to the lightning
and questions
and searches
watches her home flood and fall
watches her people drown and suffer
she moves then
not to build another anthill
but to capture the water
self-truth washes us from sin
until we are cleaner than we have ever been
for there was never sin
only a serpent and a woman and a man
and an apple made of lightning
made of truth
she breaks from the floods
and breathes
-s.s.











