Eurydice with High Heels

She gave herself comfort with an infantile ritual
Inviting me to brutally occupy her blanketed cave
And within another circle, her broken childishness.

Her skin called me deeper into her dark forest
My primal breathing broke the surface
Heaving solitaire / captured / conquering.

I was divining the landscape of our desire
Shattering the points on a compass
Mercury flooding a stairwell.

She sat in a tree growing roots of wet hair
I fed her her own brokenness
She asked for more.

I said, “… at the next moon,
When we descend again.”