Eurydice

O, how I long for your touch! For your kiss, for love’s moments, for the quiet of our embrace. I was guilty of seeking more than just memory, more than this small twisted pain of flame. O, how I long for your touch, how I ache to glide from this darkened wood, shining alone, with the flowers; that touch, that tender, light of a sun.

• H.D.

• HD