The infiltration of juices from that first apple are, 
at times like this, 
too much to bear. 
Right now, it seems, 
there will never be enough fig leaves in all the world 
to cover the lies of that snake.
They slither and slide here with ease; 
through our minds and hearts 
as they please – themselves – 
and placate all the rest.
Oh, the hopelessness that settles in
as I wonder: 
Would any of this have actually been better 
if those first two had passed that test?