LGBTQ+ Poem: Absolution, by Aironn Fiorenza Amaris

Eve sat my opposite in homeroom,
her pitch black hair dancing around her waist.
I could not keep my eyes off of her,
though I’m sure she had no idea of my existence.

I wanted to be her friend,
maybe just to braid her hair.

On Sundays, I sat in the splintering pews of my parish,
eyes locked on the flowing hair on my savior.
I thought of her in those pews,
and when the wood stabbed into my knees, kneeling in prayer.

I wanted to hold her hand,
maybe just to feel the softness of her skin.

Eden was kept locked away from students sinners,
too many incidents and ambulances.
But one day, as if given by the hand of God,
we entered at the same time.

I wanted to kiss her,
maybe just to taste the forbidden fruit that dripped from her tongue.

She took me by the hand and led me to the wall—
gently placing her mouth on my own.
Pulling away, she placed one finger to her lips and I nodded in agreement.
Our secret would remain in these walls.

I had to taste her sin again,
so I begged Him for absolution.

Eve and I established a routine,
meeting in the garden every week.
Eternal fire dripped down from our foreheads and burned our eyes—
it was no matter. She was my savior.

Maybe Eve was right;
something as good as that apple, or these lips, should not be wasted.

I was supposed to be reading my bible, so when my phone buzzed against my desk,
Mary burst through the door. Reading every message, her mouth widened—
You must have a wrong number.
We did not meet in the Garden that week.

If I was created in His image,
why can’t I shake this feeling?

I was instructed to stay upstairs for the adult sermon that week.
I listened to the preacher spew fire from his throat, Leviticus 18:22.
Yet in the same breath, John 13:34.
The most important commandment of all, to love those as I have loved you.

Surely Hell hath no fury,
like the hatred I feel for myself.

So when I saw Eve in the Garden that week,
I led her to the wall.
Our hands traced silhouettes onto each other’s skin.
See you in Eden. I ran from the bathroom, all the way home.

God forgive me,
but I cannot bloody my knees anymore.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in Eden.
He stood under luscious green trees, overflowing with candy red fruit.
Is it a sin to love?
He said nothing, but instead led me to our garden.

I sat with my back against the cold tile walls,
and waited for Eve’s return