Underneath I’m naked.
This fabric that falls from shoulders
and flows to below my knees
could easily be removed,
dropped to the floor
and shoved away.

I am still in Eden sometimes—
haven’t tried the fruit,
met the serpent, or even
touched Adam.
I stare at this new body,
and wonder at its color and curves,
nails and curls.

But then the clothes appear again
and I face the loss of lush gardens.
This new earth, full of weeds,
work, and weeping, requires such toil.
I don my gloves and thick-soled shoes,
and feebly attempt to tug and destroy curses.

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