[YOUNG ACHILLES]
Tomorrow perhaps we’ll--

[YOUNG PATROCLUS]
Not again

[YOUNG ACHILLES]
I am not finished. Wait

Tomorrow perhaps we’ll go--

[YOUNG PATROCLUS]
Chiron is waiting for us!

[YOUNG ACHILLES]
Listen!

Tomorrow perhaps we’ll go running
Or maybe we’ll walk by the ocean
The tide makes the summer-warm sand lose its memory
Our footprints will fade with the morning

[YOUNG PATROCLUS]
Achilles, now we should--

[YOUNG ACHILLES]
Tomorrow perhaps we’ll be seabirds
Tomorrow perhaps constellations
We’ll dream of the gods’ endless summer and then
We will wake to the ways they have changed us
And who really knows if they hate us?

A curse or a blessing, it’s all just the same
We’ll turn into trees like we’re lovers

[YOUNG PATROCLUS]
And if we don’t go back soon, Chiron will kill us. Come on. He must be wondering where we are