I saw him yesterday at the creek
Talking with his mother
As she gathered shells
For his necklace.

Achilles had many a flame.

I was just one maiden, fair enough
To have caught his eye
At the celebration
Of the solstice.

More than me, he wanted fame.

Never spoken of in myth, this peasant
Whom he loved as much
As the young temple
Priestess that day.

I would have borne his children.

Or so I was told by the Goddess;
His mother of ancient times
And mystical plays
Who lives far away.

He sits on the thrones of Heaven.