Temptation

Close your eyes.

The body finds its own way — earlier, more precisely than any decision.

Turquoise — the first cold breath of anticipation. Crimson — when anticipation becomes real. Both exist simultaneously, because in temptation beginning and height are one. There is such a moment — when what was clenched releases and resistance turns into movement toward. To dissolve.

Claws wound with rings, like priests with bracelets: power consecrated by ritual. A hand with tattoos — a poem written into skin. In their intertwining — a conversation in a language older than writing. Lips move toward warmth and find it.

Witness and instigator, lurking in the depths. The first apple is tasted precisely this way — slowly, entirely, with eyes closed. He saw this before the first garden. And watches now.

Falling is also flight. With a different name and the same exhilaration.