What Elise Means to Me: Euridice
That a heel feels a double needle.
That the gold leaf flaked from her breast
and settled on my lashes.
That I opened my mouth and there was no music.
Oh, be quiet, she’d say.
I’m only on the step behind you.
Every day you ascend to the glory
of your apartment, letter G.
It’s no tragedy that you turn and I return to another.
That I couldn’t sing her back.
That she would rather run to the Midwest
and what promise the limitless plains
than be goated on the wedding table
smeared with butter amongst the mounded grapes,
the ants the ants and their small voices.
That she coolly appraised me and found me wanting.
That my hand waved to her even as I turned away.
Finally, that these are the veils.
Overlay and inlay, the words
cover and the words real
the real. Why wave, she asked.
It’s forever or it’s nothing.
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