Caer Ibormeith

I saw him in my dreams before I bade him dream of me
So smooth his limbs, so bright his eyes
So sweet the voices of the birds they say are his kisses.
No one could help but love him—
And I saw he knew they did.
So I sent him dreams of me, but never went to him:
I gave him the ache under my breast, I made it his.
He asked his father the horseman to find me
But even a druid could not pierce the mists of my hiding.
He asked his mother the river to find me
But she searched for a maiden and I was none.
He begged his wise brother the king to find me
And the crow in his cunning asked questions
Until my story revealed itself to him.
It was the red crow sent him to me, to my maidens,
Nine hundred on the lake when my father brought him.
I had brought him to break his heart as he had broken theirs,
But when I saw him, the pain of his dark-circled eyes was mine
And the beauty of his yearning pierced my heart.
Ensnared, I forgot to wish for freedom.

We stood, nine hundred, in my shape and waited for him to fail
Our hearts prepared to break, our wings to fly
And when he touched my hand and spoke my name I thought
The world had never been light until
That golden moment bound us in its chains.

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