You’re made of clay.
You’re of the earth
where your hooves tap
the ground; where
your voice pulls its energy
like the roots of the
flowers through your legs
to your lungs. You’re of
the wind where your
breath maddens the air
with the sound of your
neigh as it drives the
night crazy. You’re of
the stars where your
eyes are inflame with
the jewels of the sky
which unhinge me
from my soul and
bring me back
to the stems; to the
marvelous, magnificent
pounding of your legs.
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