What is it, this pleasure –

wedding form wholly to the

flesh of another, thrill of

elongating one’s body by the

breadth of something fully itself,

extending our paltry power into

virtual infinity, equine

muscle and hoof the increase of

torso, of leg …


What rapture to join

fused, to trust the

majestic one

completely to carry us

upon its back, not buttressed into

too-cumbersome seats fashioned for

domineering men, but

skin to hide, running

unprotected over

sky-streaked fields, synced with

earth as one who keeps

faith with her …


We, who long to ride on backs of

great whales singing to the

depths of an

indigo sea, never

caring who





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