Against the Remorse of Orpheus

I. We’ve peeled grapes enough
to taste the tannins, their smell
still damp on our thumbs.
And I can still hear every tune
your lyre has ever sung.

II. You used to catch me hanging
     over 7 a.m. traffic
from a ninth story guardrail.
     It made me feel alive
to be lost in the smog.

III. You never did believe in fate
but the mythology goes

     The snake bit the foot
     that trampled too close.
     The foot was being chased
     because it was white.
     And you could not
     have wanted it
     any other way.

Regret has no place in this story.
Had you not turned when I called,
I could not have loved you.

IV. Take note

of why the cold-blooded snake
strikes at weakling rustles in
the grass nearby, his grace
of execution; how well he sloughs
off what’s dead and turns wholly away.

— Teresa Kim

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Filed under Poetry, Vol 1 Issue 2

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