Biting hard into the sweet fruit
of the forbidden tree,
he felt a delicious thrill.
This was how he imagined Eve,
tasting her honeyed moistness,
tonguing her velvety core.
Soon he felt a throbbing
near his jaw. Beneath some cedars,
he fashioned the pincers,
then twisted and uprooted the enameled jewel
now filled with decay, created whole
on the morning of the sixth day.
When the gate closed behind them,
he couldn’t help but curl his tongue,
snake-like, around the tender wound,
tasting the coppery blood
and with it, the bitter knowledge
of pleasure’s price.
Originally from Brooklyn, New York, Jeff Saperstein has
lived and worked in the New River Valley in southwest Virginia
since 1985. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in
Virginia English Bulletin, Floyd County Moonshine, Nuthouse,
Deronda Review, and Ibbetson Street Press.