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Another boring trip to the shops when I could be doing important stuff, like potting about sheds and poke a few plants in here and there, after the odd coffee or three. And it occurs to me that its all about the covering of our naked shame...

Eve's Folly

Fdf5205c-8b5b-4da8-a6dc-63fe28d680a9by Billy J. Stewart24 May 2014

Sauntering round the shops, doing the man thing,
Duty, but oh heck bored rigid.
Elbows on the blouse-rack, I look at you.
You, in your womanly glory,
In your female form, all curves and curiosity,
Racking the rails, looking for a size 12, but not low cut.
And in my head echoes your last rebuke.
My Eve.
Eve has form, you know, she has form.
And there in your very DNA I see it, poking out, like a broken arrow,
That old wound, driving you on to some atonement in vanity,
Guilt and blame, the twin towers of Eden’s Heart,
Eve’s very own Folly.
Everything is a mistake, and where was I when you needed me?
God knows.
Probably off “doing my thing” again, weird loner that I am.
Override the guilt, decommission the blame, move on.
Only you can’t.
Was it your fault we had to go round shops trying on fig leaves?
Was it all down to you in the end?
Oh yes Eve, you goofed, no question.
But so did I, and I wasn’t there for you.
But now I am.
Let me lead, that I might find us a lasting covering,
For this nakedness and shame.
That we might stop the guilt and blame,
The blame and guilt.
Before it’s too late.