the tablet

i present to you a letter of woven reeds that spells the names of all your children and their children until the last child of this universe. you discard it on the ground in favor of an apple of the tree of apples even though i gave you a more bountiful tree of knowledge from which to eat. you shame yourselves with superstitions about seeds of trees and seeds of snakes and rules about women and what women consume. my letter to you is ground over eons into ground and groundwater unread and unreadable anymore. you build cities from the trees of apples and ships from the roots of ores and make more rules about what to consume. unreading, you long to write, searching for a way to create an indestructible tablet that states your names and the names of all your children.