Eurydice

I lost all my sensibility that no man could; you're not the kind to share. Of all the beauty I see, yours is the kind of sweet and glory-like art imitates you. I would be basking in fantasies that you ache for my soul. She swayed in the room full of flowers and picked the one that grew in me. I feel you like a childlike, like my mother's touch—like my father's kiss. Your language is like a gift that no Christmas could ever give. My bed does not feel like a casket anymore, water tastes like wine, and taking showers feels like I am reborn. I made it out of Hades' home but not alone anymore—you took my hand like Orpheus, and we escaped from this horrifying world. We're far from mythology; it's more like biblical.