Eurydice

I turn, not to

see your face again,

but to watch

the look of surprise,

the wide eyes,

the sagging jaw,

as you realise,

too late,

that I always meant

to leave you behind.

A viper’s

embrace

was much too sweet

a release:

sickly fangs

punctured and swelled

the flesh,

until your foot,

gorged with venom,

bore you away,

sunk you down

beneath the earth,

where I followed,

where I now turn

my head.

Surfacing,

I hear your lyre

fading,

mourning the distance,

my love,

that tangible distance,

which your touch

could only sojourn.

At last,

as you dwindle,

as you taste

the abyss,

I begin to grasp

the soft note,

the gentle kiss,

the clement snip,

of silence.