My Eve

She was afraid of the beginning of the dark
sludge of dolls from the end of time
starry night shaking off its blood
the sexy crescent
of the moon was all we had
the flickering of her beautiful neck
which I kissed and splintered
the human error of sex
interrupted by righteous sweat
the driest part of the desert long gone

love is the fruit
which ripens in the past.