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59 After Marlowe Come, my love, and indict the ground. Depose the ants beside my head. Subpoena the darkness inside their holes. Cite the clouds and arraign the sky. Arrest yourself on the same old charge. Sit with me in the witness chair and allocate to the judge what the serpent knows already but likes to hear again. How you thought so hard for us both you made me think for myself. How what I’ve thought ever since is shameful, dear, shameful, yes. How godly she was, that creature in the tree who spoke in your voice—that leg with legs and a crack in her tongue for telling the truth. deNiord text-2.indd 59 11/10/10 10:40 AM ...


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