Eurydice's song

Since my username is Eurydice, I thought I'd share this poem with you.



Eurydice’s Song

And so you’ve come for me,
dressed up, suited out, high-stepping, flute and lyre hanging from your belt—you think you’re pretty hot.

Were you desperate for me? Or merely bored? Winter’s snows kept you warmer than my breasts? feet caressed your smooth skin, sleet kissed those lips puffed from fluting?

Or did other arms wrap your loneliness in a forgetfulness
more poignant than despair?

Was it love that brought you here? The anguish of absence? Or curiosity
and your hurry burly pride that dares everything? This was the tune
no one had played, this journey to the dark.

was your excuse, not your beloved.

You
were afraid I had forgotten you?
Oh, no, my smooth-cheeked boy.

You made
the trees waltz. Birds slowed their swift flights
to glide atop your rhythms. I could hold
a stone to my ear and the stone sang.

—William Borden, from “Eurydice’s Song”