Return to Eden

Adam turned to me today.
He said, "I want my rib back."
He punched me deep with those words,
touched upon the very insignificance of my being.
I told him to take it back.
Subsume me into his being.
He could have his rib.
I wanted poetry back,
the poetry that made up the trees and streams and creatures of Eden.
I wanted purity back,
the purity that made me sleep sweet within our heady garden.
I wanted perfection back,
the peace and perfection that made me love him because he was all I had.
I wanted my blindfold back.
He can have his fucking rib.