
ORESTES (excerpt)
I too want to see father’s murder under the soothing
generality of death, to forget of him in the wholeness
of death that awaits us too. This night has taught me
the innocence of all the usurpers. We’re all usurpers
of something — of the people, the throne, of Eros or
even of death. My sister the usurper of my only life
and I of yours.
My sweet man, with such patience, you share
the foolish events of others. Yet my hand is yours,
take it, usurp it too — yours, it is yours for this reason;
take it, squeeze it; you expect it to be free of punishments,
retaliations, memories, free of all — I want it free too,
that it’ll only belong to me so that I’ll give it to you
completely. Forgive me this secret loneliness and sharing,
you know that it splits me in two. What a beautiful night.