lucille clifton

"adam thinking" she stolen from my bone is it any wonder i hunger to tunnel back inside desperate to reconnect the rib and clay and to be whole again some need is in me struggling to roar through my mouth into a name this creation is so fierce i would rather have been born

"eve thinking" it is wild country here brothers and sisters coupling claw and wing groping one another i wait while the clay two-foot rumbles in his chest searching for language to call me but he is slow tonight as he sleeps i will whisper into his mouth our names