The New Yorker · 20 Sep 2026
“Garden,” by Melissa Broder
I was in Eden. God’s light Tongued the leaves. How Did anyone live? Shame In wanting to die In Eden. I didn’t Understand Sun. I was under Frost. Frosted. In the mornings The frost was so great A devil I needed Prayer. If god Was there then where Was god? If god Was there then what Was god? Paradise
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