some days you seem
so disappointed, love but you knew
what it was.
i am your dread wife.
you will not throw me out
of eden i walk myself to the door.
there is no snake i plant the tree.
i pluck the apple i bite.
the pomegranate the passion fruit
whatever the fuck.
i am feast unto myself.
in this wilderness the feral things name me.
& i was raised to one day wash
my husband’s feet at night.
of course i molted made myself a woman
who unmakes home.
refused to be whittled to a fine point
but you like me piercing.
beloved i will not
only writhe when coming.
my vow: break through this shell fully impossible.
your vow: lap every slick of the yolk.
Copyright © 2023 by Elizabeth Acevedo. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 5, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets.