I
To them I am the brute not the lover
The raging king’s hound, his gold spear – death’s kiss
Was this the way, was there no other?
II
History, prayèrs did try to cover –
Those violent delights, and that violent bliss
- To them I am the brute not the lover.
III
Yet, if time would but only uncover
Those extra curves of your smiles that they miss – I miss.
Was this the way – was there no other?
IV
If the Prince of Troy did not hover over
My mind and your ghost – in debt to the Styx –
To them I am the brute not the lover!
V
They forget romeo, the pre-mover;
Was it for this you died, was it for this?
Alas, I am the brute. Not your lover.
Was this the way? Was there no other?
"Achilles" by Sadbh Kellett. First published in The Attic XX, 2017.