Orpheus and Eurydice
by Alex Ranieri
Tongue-tied Orpheus before Eurydice. He loved her
for undoing the knot and setting free dove-sweet sounds, fearful
and terrible
in their beauty. He loved a glimpse
of the tendons in her throat, glistened
with fresh sweat. He adored her
unbound thoughts, squeezed
through a nasally tone. He worshiped at the altar of her
guttural moans.
Her voice was imperfection to his honey-drenched head.
While he could coax a lion into sleep, her shrieks
could wake the dead. But she untied him--
she undid him--
and when death wrapped
her up, he was
undone.