we can count millennia and still love the same

A light on inside absolution;
tomorrow cannot be fun.

Scene.
Eve sighs; picking
apple shards with grey
fingernails. Meaning to have
one last forgetful night.

Serpent flips down a flush,
while Adam squirms.
His leaf in venom's
possession, he'll give up
that apple next.

But for now, she's flicking
up the light. Down maybe;
the electricity's shot.
Lukewarm tendons wrestle
out a knot, leaving
the lights blazing.
End Scene.

Absolution means little
when all millennia want
is to pay a ounce of
attention to detail.