MARE
Having held my form to myself -
too long, too long - I now seek a
wandering expression, stallion-like,
bursting a range and leaping a fence.
The lightning bolt, scratching forth
the sky, reminds me then of something
else : I am not now, nor ever have I been,
really, something other than what I want
to be. Moonlight. Clouds. Fire. Something
desolate, out with fire, solitary, alone.
Having held my form to myself -
too long, too long - I now seek a
wandering expression, stallion-like,
bursting a range and leaping a fence.
The lightning bolt, scratching forth
the sky, reminds me then of something
else : I am not now, nor ever have I been,
really, something other than what I want
to be. Moonlight. Clouds. Fire. Something
desolate, out with fire, solitary, alone.
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