Chicano Poet

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The Tree Of Pleasure

When she took
the first bite of the fruit

she did not know
it was a sin.

He knew the truth.
Spoke not a word.

He knew what dwelled
upon the tree.

The whiteness
of the ruddy fruit.

He knew the seed
bore wonder.

And then she ate
from the hanging limb.


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