On hating the Eve I didn't know

By Gervanna Stephens

There were giants once according to the pastor,
large selves climbing towards clouds
and sin with its serpent tongue licked into Eve’s ear
and she ate of the fruit
slurped juice from her fingers
offered it a surrender to her first
and he ate of the fruit
fingers cupped delicately so as not to batter flesh
offered selves against death
grip a warm palm
linking
felled by taste and oblations
brought down to size
footstools to bear worship
between the heavens
between the smaller versions of themselves
between who we once were
between I’m sure the fruit was
a mango
golden and bursting ripe
between before I go out of season
sample me
between hunger and want and simple curiosity.
​
There were giants once according to the pastor,
but I don’t think he knew the whole story.

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Gervanna Stephens is a Jamaican poet and proud Slytherin with congenital amputation living in Canada. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Rhythm & Bones, Bone & Ink, Rose Quartz, Okay Donkey, 8 poems, TERSE, WusGood.black, Enclave and Anti-Heroin Chic. She hates public speaking, has two sisters who are way better writers than her, and thinks unicorns laugh when we say they aren’t real. Tweets @gravitystephens