Cain and Abel by Malachy Harris
here stand
two brothers, feet apart:
close enough to feel the beating heart
of an apple, used by a snake
to create a rift:
a break.
a divide.
an open flame
that, when Eve cried, became
a weapon in an old war:
not about blood
or the ownership of mud,
but the might of small men
in big rooms,
love
broken like a promise,
unnoticed like distress,
and discarded like a shattered home.
