Self-portrait as Eurydice
My improv':
Eurydice
Down here it's hard to say my hand
is mine, to close my left eye and call
you lover or call you love or call you
anything at all. Down here the others
know of you. Yes, the dead gossip
too. Rumors of the song you chose for me
wandering alone in the meadow. I'm sorry
to say they blame you for the viper,
for the venom steadfast in its pursuit.
No comments:
Post a Comment