Eurydice

this isn't real
you can't be here
impossible
this is only memory
a cheap trick of my failing mind
I can't touch you
you're nothing but a ghost
a fabrication
a doppelgänger
fashioned out of mist to torment me
if I reach out
you will disappear
if I turn around
you will vanish
I know this to be true
but your body calls to me
your skin beckons
your eyes reach out
like a light in the fog
signaling across the years
the memories flood back
a rush of hopes dreams fears
whispers and caresses
your young body trembles
under a thin summery dress
and I reach for you
I feel you solid and alive
beneath my touch
then you shudder
and melt on my fingers
like a chocolate bar

Copyright Walter Wykes, 2009