i found i was hungry. the tree said “eat,”
but i would not.
its Fruit was too beautiful, scarred red and pale white.
my hands were caked in dust, tarred, stained, eager to bruise.

the woman in blue said “eat.
this Fruit is grown for you.”
but i would not.
i could only tarnish It.

the Man said “eat. please.
this fruit I give you—I have labored long to give it.
it is all I am.”
but i would not.
He looked down to the woman from His wounds on the tree.
and so she turned to me, eyes red from longing,
and reached for my throat. i cried, but all she did was pull off
the snake I’d let coil around it.

the snake flailed in the dust, hissing up at me. “you cannot eat.
do you not remember what you have done?
that you were the one who put Him there?”
and yet i was free. i could breathe anew,
my shoulders lightened, its whispers hushed.
i could hear the silence humming
with a profound Word of home.

together we held the beast down
as He crushed its skull.
i looked at my hands, expecting guilt,
but in the Blood and Water which gushed forth
from the Fruit—His Heart—
they were clean.

i found i was hungry
and so i was fed.