Breaking Horses

House of Heart

You are getting closer,

I   hear the crunch of  soft sand,

the skitter of stones beneath your boots.

Your scent passes through my parted lips

stinging the flare of my nostrils and the choke

in  my throat while your hands of steel butterflies

float over  proud  bones  luring me gently

to the killing fields.

Your   fingers are    the scent of tanned leather,

I lick them like fresh  flesh wounds.

Your feathered crop gently brushes  my shoulders,

no one can save me now, there is nothing to do,

because you have always known how

to break wild horses.

girls-horses-500-3110

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