Seven times did the wolf cry unto the kid:
"Stop." Only then did he devour.
What drove me to be drawn so
To whatever the heart is drawn to.
What drove me to attempt to sever
Waters from waters, which never
Can be severed and nowhere
But in the heavens
Are changed into air.
Meanwhile
Only the heart remains, fragile
As ever, stuck,
And all that never rose to the bait
Pinned on its hook.