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.