Everyone sang of Achilles deeds

how his blood was smelt of iron

and his skin unblemished by steel

but I knew the dent a kiss would make

bruising his cheek enflaming his breast

His haunches knitted burnished bronze

dipped in gold ambrosia left metal on

tongue but I left my mark twisting muscle

and biting his ear but no crimson

dripped but sank into his holy altar

His nymph mother suckled him on her

spirited breast but no other woman felt

those lips on fertile flesh and for duty I

obeyed his strict order disciplined in

groove and thrust of hot tip spear giving

My grip to his command each rounded

jerk-bash of shield guided hefted to

targeted arrows cleave renting cloud

of heads I fell for him and wait in drift

fields knowing I am his heel first weakness

and death

image: The Smithsonian