stay hungry tee

what if eden was never about exile?
what if the bite wasn’t betrayal
but a blueprint for becoming?
what if the first sin was not
disobedience
but the heresy of pleasure,
of knowing your own hunger
and worshiping it with your mouth?
 
this is not a confession.
it is a declaration.
a gospel inked
in teeth marks
and tongue prints.
 
on the front:
a bitten apple,
the wound of it filled with flesh—
tassaert’s cursed woman,
tangled in the grip of desire
like a psalm
that refuses to end.
because maybe
paradise was never lost,
just rewritten.
maybe the holiest thing we can do
is refuse to starve ourselves
of what we ache for.
 
on the back:
scripture remade.
hunger as genesis.
devotion that drowns itself
every time it’s touched.
hands gripping hips
like clock hand
 obeying time.
the body as a temple
where worship is
indistinguishable from ruin.
the question:
what if i said love
was meant to be wicked?
what if i said you were always
meant to devour?
 
this is for the ones
who have been called
too much, too sinful,
too ravenous—
who have been told
to shrink, to silence,
to apologize
for their fire.
wear it like an altar.
like an invitation.
like the gospel
of your own
becoming.
 
stay hungry.
and let every bite
be a prayer.