Eve
Eve of the poisoned apple has crimson lips to be bitten and crisp white flesh that tastes of Death and the sweetness of her ruin If you were to cut her in two at the center her heart would be a pentagram a magic older than time or sin and be you Adam or serpent or fallen angel still it tastes the same And she is not the root of all evil Evil is in the eye of the beholder but no man’s eye can hold her.
Categories: General | Tags: Mythic Detritus, Portential Detritus, Poetic Detritus
September 17, 2011 | Share:





