IX. Claiming the Apostrophe

Was it the keen Serpent who first saw how
Possessiveness could snare people’s hearts,
Making their fingers close like vises around
A perfect apple, or their lovers’ wrists?

No, it was Eve, I think, who first witnessed
How loss gives rise to greed—who saw that
The fruit she offered Adam bore her mouth’s
Perfect teeth marks, a cage of apostrophes.

We all know the story: how her gift became
A fateful deed, an eviction notice; how hers
Became his and begot theirs, launching them
Into sin, and marrying them to divisiveness.

Their fall from grace also wed love to death,
And gave rise to a sob welling in their throats,
A brandishing of air that ushered in a sorrow
Which would forever join and separate them—

Eve’s birth pains; Adam’s lost Eden; Abel’s heart;
Cain’s knife—and all bearing God’s thumbprint.
So, the world became apostrophized: the tear’s
Drop, blood’s spangle on the brow:ours now.