Mustang
A wild mustang blew over the steppe, a solitary
Pale rider rushing over the chest planes to greet me
Engulfing, stampeding through sharp wicked valleys
And emotions were herded into a bone corral
Slamming the gates against this Dun Stallion’s
hips, while he frothed at these invisible bits
Dusty huffs, wheezing breaths,
The rails splintering under his sharp teeth
Hooves hammering thoughts homeless, for
And that last nail to hold him from freedom, from me
Faltered, as my ribs caved in
And he drifted off again
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