We fell inverse back to Eden
and the angels put out their swords.
The apple came up in the toilet,
the snake was just a snake, the tell-
ing-off untold. And everything
we learned—No hunger, no music,
no star in no black eye. Or skin
on skin. Or skinlessness. It could
be easy to live like this. As
animals without purpose,
a beauty that asks no questions.
With rib retracted, dust settled,
we got real small; returned to clay.
(Soon the birds will drop from the day.)