Always enchantments
falling from your lips.
Orpheus...Eurydice
made real
made from the nearness
of your breath...a kiss.
I cry unashamedly each time
Orpheus looks back &
Eurydice is lost
...to his hysterical heart.
I ask for this story endlessly.
Each time promising I
won’t cry &...I cry.
Scream: “No! ”
as if Orpheus can hear me.
Each time believing that
Death can be cheated
& wailing: “Why? ”
Years later the bus crash
(the story, Death invented)
turns me into Orpheus
you into Eurydice.
I search endlessly for your kiss
the nearness of your breath
...that smile.
The story...
...falling from your lips.
Morning shatters
the dream
the ghost of your voice smiling:
“Shhhh...shush...that’s just
...the way the story goes.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-way-the-story-goes/
