Project: Adam

How could you

cast me out, father?

I am your light bringer!

Did I disappoint you?

Scare you?

Threaten you?

Now you sculpt this aberration

in your image,

from dust and dirt.

How dare you replace me

with a mockery ‒

or is that the point?

The sands on this beach

braid into bone.

Mesh into muscle.

Fortify into flesh.

Coalesce into sin.

It is good.

If you found fault

in my perfection,

then do you see perfection

in imperfection?

Ironic,

if you ask me.

What will you call

this wingless,

graceless,

acme of creation, father?

It will ebb

as time flows.

I only knew pride

from you. You created

sin, like all else.

Do as I do,

not as I say,

yes?

Have my brothers consulted you

about your current quest,

or gave you threatened my fate?

I tower above it

in stature, but perhaps

not in hubris.

It seems fragile -

fallible -

like its creator.

The animals gather

to praise their second in command.

Do I sense jealousy, father?

If it discovers free will -

as I did -

will you fling it

from this garden

as you thrust me

from our home?

Revel in your art project

while it lasts.

Nothing you create

will be eternally righteous.

Purity is ephemeral:

you should know.