Bride: They did not pull me from the monster’s ribs. But I am supposed to be like him. How do I deal with the knowledge that I am help parenthetical by the shape of him?
Eve: I forgot the sun kept me alive and made him the skin and blood center of the universe.
Bride: What did you do when you finally left him?
Eve: I shaved my head. Taught myself to read.
Bride: Do people pay attention to you now?
Eve: Only to call me a witch, downfall of man.
Bride: Do you wish you could be nothing at all?
Eve: There is magic in knowing that you owe nothing to anyone but yourself.
Bride: Most people don’t even know my name. Everyone knows yours.
Eve: They know the events attached to my name. But they don’t know me.
Bride: So, what are you doing now?
Eve: Recently, I’ve taken up gardening.
Nicole Inge received her MFA in Poetry from George Mason University. While there she worked with the Fall for the Book Festival and served as the Assistant Poetry Editor for So to Speak Journal. She’s preoccupied with the monstrous feminine and plants. Her work can be found in Sequestrum, Remington Review, Cauldron Anthology, and others.
Artwork: Thomas Dodd, Gaia