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