Eve Splits Open

I never held paradise.

Weaved under a shroud
I had no chance

to speckle the blackest night.

What luminous rifts
if darkness never fell?

An oak without limbs
can’t reach for sky.

the acorn will never know its worth,

might forget it’s an acorn at all
and not a rock,
a knob in a leathered tree.

I am not some piece of bone.

I stopped pressing my ear
toward empty sky.

I split open.

Formed branches.
Found the fruit I’d borne myself.
Bit into myself.

Chewed each bite slowly.

Visit Jennifer Givhan online at jennifergivhan.com


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