#this book is the holder of my soul
goddess,
how do you want me to love?
you think so lowly of this boy
who has scraped his wobbly knees
to chase this omnipotent being
that you call your son;
worships brimming from my throat
and spilling from my wounded lips
because he is a god amongst mortals.
you think so lowly of this boy
who does not want your son to perish
even if he is forgotten through time,
because what good is his epic
when he is dust?
you think so lowly of this boy
who loves achilles
for what he is not allowed to be—
a boy.
so tell me goddess,
how do you want me to love?
how do you want us to love?
— prayers thrown at the sea