Eros got drunk
and lost his pants
when he met Psyche
at a bar, counting
her bingo chips.
she leads him through the alleys
to the center
of the labyrinth
the night a Pyrex bowl
with cracks for stars
she claps her hands three times
but doesn’t break the spell
the stars are 99% performance
and the rest is myth
*
she notices his eyelashes
in the snow
when she hits him
in the head
with a softball
like an arrow in reverse
he says, It’s just
my head
I never needed it
for this
Psyche plays the keyboard
while he dances in pajamas
in his apartment
limbs unfold like wings
they order sushi
with the names of flowers
cherry blossoms
fizzle in their mouths
his pajamas fall
and become deer
nuzzling green-stubbled trees,
a sudden bright red
blossom
breaking ice.
*
She says, If I fall in love with Love
I could never take myself seriously
what is Psyche without desire
sharpening her arrows?
he says, If I was your boyfriend
I would kill myself
he keeps her kiss inside a napkin
in his wallet
he hates her lovers but he always
lets her in
Eros, without a soul
is just bad poetry
*
Eros has a mark
made by a sizzle-drop of oil
the jealous birds will hate him
for his beauty
they will want to peck his wings
and steal his songs
Psyche strokes piano keys
to charm the angry aviary
she’s not trying to steal anything
(except, perhaps, her soul)
*
In her hand,
she can hold a key
pull straight a tie
zip up his jacket
touch the mark
that mars his symmetry
she can march
into his dreams
where they duel with glass bottles
in a hotel lobby
he says, you’re the biggest part
of my problem
she takes her key
and leads him
through the door
into the garden
then awake
*
Inside the theatre,
they lift plastic glasses
in French, he says
he is the man of cheese
in French, she asks
did he mean to say of wine?
in English, his mother (jealous,
as in all the tales) says he is an idiot
their laughter splashes the walls
the theatre blushes burgundy
the curtain falls
the birds write bad reviews
& every human heart
is a lonesome corkscrew
Amber Ridenour Walker is the author of Surfacing (Free Lines Press) and i thought this would be cooler (Bottlecap Press). Her poetry and prose have appeared in such places as Local Smoke, The Portland Review, 580 Split, Bombay Gin, Leon Literary Review, and Tiny Spoon. She holds an MFA from the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics and moonlights as a librarian.