Myth By Natasha Trethewey

the Erebus I keep you in, still trying not to let go. You’ll be dead again tomorrow, but in dreams you live. So I try taking

you back into morning. Sleep-heavy, turning, my eyes open, I find you do not follow. Again and again, this constant forsaking.

Again and again, this constant forsaking: my eyes open, I find you do not follow. You back into morning, sleep-heavy, turning.

But in dreams you live. So I try taking, not to let go. You’ll be dead again tomorrow. The Erebus I keep you in–still, trying–

I make between my slumber and my waking. It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow. I was asleep while you were dying.