Eve of the poisoned apple

has crimson lips to be bitten

and crisp white flesh

that tastes of


and the sweetness of

her ruin

If you were to cut her in two

at the center

her heart would be a pentagram

a magic older than time or sin

and be you Adam or serpent or

fallen angel

still it tastes the same

And she is

not the root of all evil

Evil is in the eye of the beholder

but no man’s eye can hold her