Memo to Eros

Staying in touch with the gods

Eros, my old friend, 
Now you’re time traveling me,
Sending me the beloved, in his youth-
Black hair, abundant, falling into his eyes;
Those [still] wide shoulders, holding arms of sculpted muscles.
Why, Eros, why?
Why make me suffer, yet again?
Wasn’t the first time enough?

What did I ever do to you?
Didn’t I fall in love when young? 
Oh yes, I broke a few hearts, that I admit,
Was I to break more, is that why
I suffered [suffer] with him those few years?
Why do this now?
My heart remains young and wanting,
But this out of reach thing? No!

Come on Eros,
The least you can do
Is to cough up some sixty-something.
Don’t they too, need love?
Place him in my sightline.
The younger codger also goes to the gym. 
Those sculpted muscles? We can take a pass.
And the dark hair? No longer desired.
Gray hair looks good falling into the eyes.

Or, Eros, there’s giving me
A ride in the machine that travels
Back and forth, and leaves us off,
Well, gods only know where and when.
I like a good adventure.
Send me back, and sideways, to meet him as 16 year olds.
Romeo and Juliet will be a tame love
Compared with ours. 

I know, I ask for complex things,
Only something your wife can deal with.
My soul and his body, or is that,
His soul and my body? Yearning is the next word.
Such is my fate, I so get that.
I like you Eros, and I’m not done
With love, creation or drive. 
But I am finished with the unrequited. 

©2022 Laura Crockett