Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Lonely Salmon Horse

The ancient laughter echoes through ceilings that leak all over the pores of my outer skin
My skin which has become so fragile can be ripped by a memory of  past desires.
The deer took his horns and placed them on me,
He gave me no warning, and no alarm.
I just felt the horns transform into antlers
and with antlers I turned into a horse, a salmon horse, running on cotton plains
all alone.

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