menace-of-doe

The menace of the doe

It is the yearning of the doe
That keeps her love alive,
And not the fervid eyes of the wolf
That sets her heart ablaze;

It is the distance in the woods
That makes her sigh at night,
And not his lustful, ardent breath
That makes her cry aloud;

It is her own imagination
That wounds her every day,
And not his false satiété
That makes her damn her faith:

“Don’t boast a victory on me,
Don’t glorify your being,
For in the end I will escape,
And you will know no heeling!”