Cupid And Psyche

I light a lamp to know the truth
and see… a God! I drop my knife
and gape at all the gold in view,
the gleaming wings. I’m Cupid’s wife!
The Pythia had split her lips
with screams of what awaited me:
A Dragon Lover! But your kiss,
your touch, your moves, felt heavenly
until I doubted. You must know,
my sisters urged. I tremble, spill
a drop of wax. You wake and groan
and glare. Your anger holds me still
and silent, shamed, inside our room,
our baby fluttering in my womb.