Her soul’s a leaping shadow
tethered to a beast.
Love is the pillar, thick, invisible,
she yearns from horseflesh to embrace.
The lower half
hauls back, its male-strong joints set
with the weight of a sliding mountain,
its hooves jammed deep in mud,
though her longing springs from earth.
Human melds to horse by blood, by muscle,
the heart rent by two bodies.
Will her trembling hands
go slack, her lifted head
decline to a horseneck
bowing to the soil?
The world’s a gaudy, turning carousel,
a herd of horses crossing plains.
Their lowered mouths gnaw grass, gulp water,
but I see her still
preserving the luminous coal,
still struggling, wrestling
with the half that is this horse,
myself.
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