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Diana Mills

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Eve And The Serpent

I can tell by the way you slither
down the tree. You have a
certain charm, a beguiling smile
that stirs the ruffled calm
of Paradise and sends a frisson

along angels’ spines.

Your agate eyes, pale and round
in sockets ringed with silver,
gleam like orbs of moonlight
trapped in the summer foliage,
green and lush, crushed gently
by the brush of pallid scales
rippling down in shimmering
silence . . .

Oh, yes - you do have a certain charm

a beguiling smile that strips pretence
away. I stand before you. Naked.
Laughter, that uneasy fig-leaf of the
soul, wilts and falls to the ground
without a whimper.

A fatal attraction
draws us to each other,
but why should I
be the one to succumb
to temptation?

Here, snake! Bite my apple. Crunch
its soft, juicy flesh between your teeth

and be damned for ever.

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