Poetry by Donna Dallas: Apocrypha

Apocrypha

They

say men line up 

for a beautiful

woman

I shed my clothes            naked     

I lie 

on the bed

to be cross-examined          as if you don’t believe

we

are the Eve’s      the rib      the true blood link

to a sandaled man

that limped through the desert            across lives     

to journey into this 

bedroom 

and save the

Mother Eve

awake

eyes open

hailing her

imperfections