then this ebony bird beguiling ——

i did not love him— not as Daedalus had

for he was not my son, nor my lover

he was simply a mortal, dead by wax wings

and yet his fragility plagued me

just as grief and lust and war had plagued me

i knew only of the moments i had seen him

and he knew me only from my station:

daughter of Helios, monster-breeder, witch

i mourned for the love his father once gave him

i mourned for how quickly life es

but my name was Circe, Hawk with dulled wings

and i would show no weakness.