i have this new love, named Haemon.

he calls me Darling and holds me

closely as if i am his dear Life herself.

we met at a masquerade. while he

danced with the beautiful princess,

i sat outside, poised on a parapet

contemplating how far i might fall,

curious about the meaning of it all.

when he saw me there, at the end

of the night, he promptly proposed

and I accepted, composed,

as unsurprised as always.

"I didn't need to see your face,"

he said. "I fell in love

with your eyes." my sad eyes

that he says are wise and sweet and strong.

last night i buried one of the brothers i barely knew.

i do not believe in ritual or superstition but

with this forbidden gesture, i accepted death---

demanded it as my destiny after i was arrested.

there was yelling and weeping and pleading all around.

"Uncle, you must kill me. I know you must."

i practically begged him. let me have my purpose, please.

"this is not-is not-your purpose. antigone…damn it, listen to me!"

but i would not, caught up in the exhilaration of my certainty.

i was so convicted---

standing on my own, no longer conflicted

about the woman I must become.

I am already Her, this final girl

who knots her robe around her neck,

resigned and afraid. Now

all I can think is---

poor Haemon:

I am sorry about our son.