Vicious circles wheel around the sun,
The crystal ball of her future,
When nothing remains the same
But the everlasting cycles of the moon.
Woman, round, soft curves of renewal,
Defined by ancient cycles of the body;
Mysterious to those that can only penetrate,
Hunters seeking prey with the rising sun;
Man, straight, unbending, pierce his prey,
Wounding her heart with his arrows;
He whets his appetite at her breast,
Longing to breed more hunters.