Apollo: My hands are fire
Quarry: Short of site, and shivering
I pray for the hunt
Apollo: My lamps is lit horizon to horizon
my eyes are clear with
steady aim
bright weapons
and a distant reach
Quarry: Come, Apollo
Apollo: You there in the sand,
with ashes in your teeth
where will you run
when I bring the sun?
Quarry: I’ll stand my ground
standing tall, I face the fire stare
today is mine
his brilliance steals my eyes and drives me to the ground
the earth can have my bones
my soul is for the sky
Apollo: I am hunting.
Quarry: I am hunted.