Friday, May 21, 2010

My Wild Stallion

Below the cliffs
stands my wild stallion
Bathed in sweat
Full of fire.
I come to listen
and not to pry
to his shrill scream.
I dig it deeper
He starts to melt down
by bullets of his drunken shadow.
I wail his wounds
and cast my tears
on the cliff walls,
hold him tight
and dance beneath the razors
of life's giant waves.
Out of the teary eyes
emerge his handsome smile
the moment we reach
the lavender fields.

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