Why have you got wings on your feet?
I go fast.

Why were you created?
For all of you, for you.

What are you doing here?
I am resting, aside.

Shaken by ancient omens
I found comfort in this stone.

So who are you? What is your name?
I am the glutton of prey and the impossible

the astute mystifier, frequenter
of the dark night, perfect thief, god.

My sob will resuscitate every poet;
my fire, my dance, a new boxer.