When Eve had one eye
and no breasts,
and Adán had no testicles
in The Garden Peacock
of Feathers in Bloom.
“You can eat all the apples you wish.
But don’t you dare come
near the mango, avocado,
banana and chirimoyo trees.”
Huitzilopochtli gave them his back—
and said he’d be back.
Eve stared into Adán’s eyes.
Adán stared at her eye.
They roamed for twelve moons
and got quite bored eating
golden huasheentohn apples all day.
What a bore, thought Adán.
One day Adán went fishing
at a different fishing spot and
smelled a familiar smell.
He grabbed a branch and
wrapped his legs, pushed down
with his left foot and pulled
his body up with his left arm.
He sat propped up on the mango tree.
And the smell of skin, meat, flesh consumed
him with vertigo . . .
had never tasted anything quite like it.
What a bore—those apples.
No wonder Huitzilopochtli said
to eat as many rotten apples
as we pleased, he thought
as he took that last lick of his pinky finger.
Huitzi would never find out,
and he took two more for Eve.
On the other side of the garden,
Eve looked at the calla lilies,
their protruding yellow pistils.
Near the purple hydrangeas,
she spotted a yellow banana tree
that reminded her too much of
the calla lilies. She pulled down
the giant, green leaves and
grabbed a small canoe like banana
and swallowed it in one bite.
Huitzilopochtli and Adán would
never find out. She ate it;
there was no guilt.
As Eve walked back,
she spotted a tall avocado tree.
She took one—would spread its insides
on tortilla leaves. She prepared
her molcajete salsa and ate the
avocado with delight all by herself.
The next day Eve and Adán woke up
to find skin, meat, and flesh.
Eve had grown two mangos,
and Adán had grown two avocados
and a chiquita banana between his legs!
. . . So Eve went on yet another walk
and found the chirimoyo tree;
she was repelled by the toad like fruit.
Her tongue went right through the peel
and devoured skin, meat and flesh—and
accidentally swallowed a round brown seed.
Eve came home with two eyes.
Adán stared at her; his body contorted
and changed shapes.
Huitzilopochtli had cursed Adán,
Out of nowhere, Huitzilopochtli
came around the corner;
he foamed, salivated and smiled,
“You have tasted from the chirimoyo,
from the mango, from the banana,
and from the avocado trees.
And this is good.”