When we were made
God knew.
I imagine Him gossiping
to the trees about us
then giving us ears
(Even the grass knew our fate)

Did He know sin would come in an apple?
resting in Eve’s palm?
sitting by a river?
I like to think He did
and that He tried to stop it,
picking a stone
out of the very soil He formed us from,
throwing it at Adam
as he bit into knowledge,
aiming for the neck,
not wanting him to swallow.
(God never misses)

God threw a stone inside our flesh:
we inherit the ripple in our palms
and in our old age,
under our eyes,
in our heads,
near our knuckles.
We inherit the stone
in our throats,
bobbing when we swallow,
forever reminding us
of the day
when we choked
(on the truth)