If that was the case, neither of them ever told me. So he was always the adam to me, which meant only “human”—this man, my mate without a name.The night Adam named me, I dreamed of the serpent, regal as he had been, lovely to the eye. I recalled the daylight upon his wings, the iridescence of the scales upon his feet, the golden talons. I dreamed, too, of the way he had magnified into something more, growing wings greater than his wings, unfurling his length to stand impossibly erect, his brilliance putting the sun to shame. Truly he was the most majestic creature under God! I wondered, waking later in the night, what had become of the being that had risen from that wormlike shell. He, who turned a face to every direction. He, for whom I had a hundred questions and a hundred more accusations.Thoughts of the serpent fled with the morning light; when I rose from my rocky bed, I knew I did it not as one but two.I had conceived. WE FOLLOWED THE RIVER south, sustaining ourselves on cresses, radish, garlic, and lentil shoots.
