Adam at the Garden’s Edge

The gates darkened like ash

settling into its pit and what

I meant to say in that moment

was that I wanted you more for the way

you hid when I asked

what had happened—

not because it mattered, but to see you

delay, then decide you would

say yes, say, for you,

I would reveal what drags

in my heart like a rusty tiller

against this eroded garden’s

spine of stones. For you,

I would hand over this

impossible self, impossibly yours.

It was a selfish thing I wanted.

To blame you. But then again,

how I reached with both hands.