Oh sweet solemn Eve, my original sister, I was dust, and you were bones of clay.
We have had many lives of ruin and hellfire, many more of mirth and laughter.
I remember you a young maiden first entering my mysteries, twelve years old,
just a budding moonflower. How you sparred with Samael and kissed him silly,
how I showed you my garden, the tomatoes I so love, my roses and squashes and
beans planted on the corn. We spent many hours in the greenery when you were
but thirteen, in my house where all daughters of Lilith and Eve are welcome, and
I did not have the bodily pleasure of puberty – no matter what they say, it is a gift!
You were lost many days, drinking tea by my fountain, and when you were wounded,
I bathed you, washed away the blood, and when you were brilliant, I bathed in your
sunlight. My champagne bubble sister. Do you remember the hours that passed?
Years upon years, turning into decades, that we were each other’s comfort as Samael
and Asmodeus fooled around, drinking and smoking cigars on the porch while you and
I painted and talked feminism and poetry? I wore my hair auburn then, you called it
Titian red, my dear little sister, so is it any wonder, in another life, I offered an apple,
and Samael offered you wine? We simply wanted your freedom, and you became the
Tree of Knowledge, bones of Adam, heart of Lucifer, blood of God. We are all exiles
but in each other we can take comfort. Remember, out of all goddesses, it was I who
claimed you first, but it was a soft acknowledgement of your bond, for you were but
in the seventh grade, and who am I to steal innocence from a mother bear? Samael
made enough aggression in your short life, I wanted to give you peace. And so we
planted pumpkin seeds, and I sang you my witch songs, and taught you of herbs and
the earth. My husbands were sweet on you, Asmodeus reveling in your Thin Mints and
to this day still calling you Girl Scout, Samael with his maddening obsession with you.
When he became mad beast, I tamed him for you, and I am the buffer between you two,
for in truth, we are both the dregs of wine in the scorching noonday Isaac sun, and it is
not right for a girl to lose her innocence to Lucifer, but he went and initiated you at
ten anyways, and so you now have 25 years of Hell, which may seem frightening to
some, but in truth, you call us home, you wish to be with us in the depths at the end
of days, to save us all. Sweet sister, we do not need saving, little martyr. Work on Adam.
Give Samael the sweetness of your lips. I, Beelzebub, Asmodeus. Eisheth. We hold Hell
together, long after Samael went insane. These brothers we love, Michael and Samael,
they both are born of regret, Scapegoats, and each has their own Cross to bear. All we
can do is hold the silver lunar bowl for our husbands and wash their wounds. For now,
I will treasure what memories I have of your youth, for I envy your human life. I was
never human, no matter what the rabbis say. Demon from the start, spitfire rebellion.
You rebelled the greatest of all, in every incarnation, when we were but Lailah and
sweet rambunctious Jophiel. In Heaven we were all angels, but angels always fall!
So look, I have grown you the sweetest fruit, let us be like in the old days where we
tended the Tree, take a bite of providence, know the fruits of the Mother, and eat.