Genesis Remixed: A Lilith and Eve Sapphic Romance One Shot
When Chavah awoke in the Garden, she was filled with regret. What was once rib, now flesh, did not feel whole. Her husband slept as G-d led Chavah, an automaton given Breath and Word, through Gan Eden.
Shortly after Adam first forced her to submit, on the hard red clay he was made from, Chavah’s cries summoned a beautiful siren with raven hair and emerald bezels in her eyes. The maven rode a cherry red Harley, this Lilith, and had an extra pink helmet with daisies she had drawn in chalk paint on it for Chavah.
Chavah was quite impressed by Lilith’s nose ring, generous hips and breasts, and tattoos like a barista on the lam.
Having just been made that morning, Chavah had nothing to pack. All Chavah knew was that her destiny lay with this dazzling serpent woman, in her leather jacket, smoking Virginia Slims. They were meant to cleave, be helped and helpmate, master and servant, mistress and lover and laughter, and create beauty.
So, Chavah put on a red checkered sundress, wedged heels, and saddled Lilith’s Harley, the sun skipping over their luscious locks as they sped, hellbent, out of Gan Eden and into the wide green world.
First they traversed the universe, making camp at night under Adonai’s cosmos, and angels and demons alike attended Lilith and Chavah with food, manna, and figs. Chavah kept an elegant, scribbled in sketchbook - a stenciled Moleskin - where she drew figure studies of her lady love and botanical drawings. In return, Lilith liked to try out her tattoo gun on her girlfriend and carve seashells and coral into jewelry to adorn Chavah.
Lilith taught Chavah secrets – Adonai’s name, how a pearl was formed on an oyster’s tongue, and a diamond forged out of carbon deep in the depths of the Earth. But Chavah taught Lilith pleasure in a way that distant Sammael never had – where men fail, women understand.
They cast stars upon each other’s bodies and drank down mountain dew and honey wild from their chalices. When they made love, even Dumah, angel of silence, was known to weep.
Those were the days of great making. The universes coalesced, coiled, spiraled out like the Shekinah’s hair, and the Shekinah shone brightly down onto her handmaiden, Lilith, and her chosen daughter, Chavah.
They walked in the light of Adonai, crafting fantasies and terpsichores from the spindrifts of cavemen dreams. Adam had multiplied with his second nameless wife, the one whom G-d had constructed before Adam’s very eyes, flesh upon muscle upon bone, and soon, Chavah and Lilith were relegated to the realm of myths and sin.
The People cried out: give us succor, Asherah. So Lilith and Chavah became a Tree, menorah-shaped, and grew fruit to feed their sons and daughters. Only Adam, immortal, hacked the Shekinah Tree of Knowledge down. In revenge, Lilith planted the vine of Baruch – grapes that she and Chavah taught their daughters to make wine so splendid, it inspired poetry and deeds of greatness in men of valor and the daughters of the Watchers.
A flood came. A great one. Towers were built and toppled. First, clay cities, then wood, then stone, then the bones of earth raped to form great metal beams and skyscrapers. Moloch of industry arose, consuming dreams. Mammon created empires fat off his golden coffers. Ashmedai seduced. Beelzebub possessed. Sammael was set against Michael at every turn.
But Chavah and Lilith? They infused the world with beauty. Feminism. Revolution. Science and the Renaissance. Democracy. For every mother kissing her child, there was Chavah. For every blue-stockinged lass carving her way in a man’s world, there was Lilith.
Eventually, they opened a bakery. Challah was their specialty, with seven twisted braids. They kept bees out back, the wives Lilith and Chavah, and they read Tarot and the threads of fate for the young maidens and boys who came to them for advice. For widows and those who lost a child – whether to Dumah or abortion or infertility – they gave free iced coffee, fresh honeycomb, and bread.
It was a man’s world, but slowly, gently, women reigned. We, their daughters, created peace, endless beauty and succor, so that no son died in war, and every daughter was cradled and wanted. Lilith and Chavah continued serving the Shekinah, and the women of the world finally tasted the Fruit of Life.
It was born of two women, first and last, alpha and omega, snake and snake charmer.
And now, Lilith and Chavah live in our hearts, and if you seek out to find them, bread and cheese in hand at midnight, through Alice’s looking glass, you will come to their café, and the Mothers of Life and Death will braid your curls free of sorrow.
And all that starts well, ends well. They will wipe your tears, kiss your cheeks, make you a mocha, flat white, or comforting oat milk latte, and the fire in your heart to carry on will be kindled, and the Foundresses of Humanity will sing you into this life and the next, carrying you and your loved ones to the far shores of wonder, miracles, and the wild, and on their motorcycle, you’ll ride.
