have you seen Eurydice
and did she kiss you with gold on her tongue,
and when she bit your lips like a ripe-bruised fruit
did you taste the metal-black sheen of your blood?
and when you rowed her down the river did
her white chemise trail, unblackened, through the mud?
and if she kissed you, I don't blame her;
the Holy Ghost receives her subjects, penitents, lovers
with all the love in her wilder heart,
so tell me, brother Charon,
have you seen Eurydice?
I'd hoped she'd be in the river-weeds,
drawn down to the water from her faery meads.