The crescendo of creation, the quintessence of clay conception It is good... It is good… It is very good… Then was Eve. Eden halted, gasping to lasso the Ruach fluttering towards the iridescence of Genesis. So pious in her irreverent captivation. While creation waxed, budding into its most robust contemplation of beauty. Did the Father wane brushing against the depravity to come? Beauty who ate the fruit became beauty to be consumed. Enchantment cultivated from the terroir of Eden fermented into lustful intoxication. This is why I weep for beauty. The tree that gives of her fruit, dying to herself. Learn more about Ryan: Facebook 7th Well
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