LAMENT TO EURYDICE (WHO DANCES INSIDE)

People like me mock the gods:
I want to bring things back to life
without paying the price. 

I look at you through the window.
Your silhouette moves somewhere beyond
the reflection of my cigarette on the glass.

Looking at you isn’t the same as seeing.
I don’t see you. You’re only a shade,
something I can never touch.

Let me put it like this:
I always look at the fire, 
but I never quite feel it.

I wanted to see you. I followed you down
into the darkness, imagining I was the light—
The gods punish this type of naivety. 

It’s dangerous to know that
I would do anything you asked of me,
but it’s far more dangerous to forget it.

As for all the poems I wrote?     
I know poems don’t soften the hearts of gods.
I know poems don’t change anything. 
I know this poem is no exception.

RESPONSE TO ORPHEUS (WHO SMOKES OUTSIDE)

I need you to understand: I think
everything’s too beautiful to touch.

It was never about loving the world
or you. I escaped it once, the world. 

I let it slip through my arms.
I held myself for ransom.

I wanted to know what it felt like to pay.
I got what I wanted. Then, I escaped

you—  another type of world.
I want you to see this as romantic.

You could find this romantic,
you’re supposed to be the poet. 

I’m not a poet, but I’ll say it like this:
I never look at the fire, but I always feel it.

All I wanted was for someone to look back,
even if it meant they were walking away. 

I got what I wanted. I don’t need anything.
There’s nothing else to ask of you. 

I need you to understand: 
There’s nothing to change. Wait outside— 
I’ll leave once this song is over.