Psyche and Eros

Psyche had never been really close to a man. She’d felt diminished, even when they’d worshipped her. She’d feared their embrace would damage her beautiful wings… even though those wings didn’t exist yet.

Psyche didn’t understand very much but she knew some things instinctively. She knew her wings were fragile, precious things that would one day transport her to other, better worlds. What instinct couldn’t teach was how difficult that transformation would be, and how many labours would be necessary before she achieved it.

Psyche had met men who turned into beasts and beasts who turned into mere men. She had no hope of a prince capable of transporting her to his palace. She didn’t even like successful men and was suspicious of wealth and its acquisition. She liked boys who could entertain and amuse her; who still had skin as smooth as a girl and fingers that could magic up music or drawings.

Despite her family’s irritation at her refusal to conform, this was fine when she was 17, 18, 19. But where were her wings? She felt more than ready to fly away. She became depressed. Men always disappointed her. She was alone in the wilderness when one day Eros arrived.

Fate had decreed that Eros should love Psyche; that one arrow should ensnare them both. No other lovers were so equally bound. There was no defence. The arrow pierced all the armour that enclosed Psyche’s heart. It swelled with blood and began to beat frantically.

Did Psyche’s newly beating heart drown out the voice of common sense? Or did that arrow make her deaf to all voices other than Eros’s own? When she touched him she forgot everything she’d ever known. His skin was as soft as a petal that’s replete with the afternoon sun. She was so overwhelmed with the sensation of it that she could not look at his face. She even forgot to breathe. His finger barely touched her palm yet left a glittering residue like frost tracings on a leaf. It glided over her palm and travelled the length of her index finger. The breath she took then was involuntary. The air she inhaled was as no air she’d ever inhaled before. His fragrance flowed through every pore. She felt she was breathing in the air of heaven while her feet were still planted firmly on the earth.

Still not daring to look, her hand stretched out and found his. Her finger touched a pulse in his wrist. It had a rhythm she’d never known before. His fingers closed around hers with a strength that surprised her. His voice called her name as gently as a breeze that barely ruffles the leaves on the willow tree. She was aware of his gaze. She could feel its caress. It was weaving a mesh that drew them ever closer together.

Psyche felt cocooned by his presence. She was ready to leave everything behind … home, family, identity, even consciousness. She barely noticed when her feet left the ground. She made no protest as they soared over tree tops, mountains and oceans. She accepted the proximity of clouds, then stars. But the hardness of his body surprised her. This was not a dream. His legs were locked around hers so she need have no fear of falling.

She put her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheeks against his; her lips traced spirals on his downy skin. She felt rather than heard his sharp intake of breath. She pressed her whole body closer to his, moulding herself to him. She was aware of every pore, every infinitesimal hair on her skin. She wanted their two bodies to become literally one, their two hearts to merge.

Then suddenly they were falling. A cool breeze returned her to her own skin. Eros swore. He loosened her grip from his neck. She heard a frantic beating of wings and glimpsed downy feathers floating past her. She tried to grip his forearms. She knew she was falling. His heart was beating straight into her eardrum. Her cheek scraped against his ribcage, slid down onto his stomach. She tasted the darker hair that grew above his genitals. He was pulling away. Leaving her.

Now she remembered she was composed of bone, muscle, blood… still all uncoordinated. If only she had her own wings…

Then he was catching her, scooping her up in his arms as a woman might transport a new dress. She was all silk and chiffon. She was sparkling brighter than the stars in the no longer distant sky. Eros whispered something in her ear. Psyche sighed, closed her eyes and fell asleep.