The brief moment in which things are possible

Caerus is come

He swiftly approaches in winged feet

His long tresses shimmer in the sunlight

I have to be ready to grab at His hair

My silent fears grip me!

I cannot let Him escape!

I silently fear to capture Him

I silently dread to conquer Him

If He passes, He’ll be gone

For, there is no way to seize His naked nape

On winged feet

He stands on a razor’s edge

If he passes not even Jupiter can catch Him

Even if he wishes so

If I let Him pass

There will be no turning back

He approaches and I am ready

To take Him by His hair

For I do not wish to wish

I had not taken the chance.


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