You are getting closer.

I can hear the skitter of stones beneath boots

and the crack of the whip against your thigh.

I am afraid. I have heard howit is done.

Nothing can be said to make it easy.

You are more determined than before.

My nostrils sting with the scent of leather,

fingers of steel butterflies lure these

proud bones to the killing fields.

No one can save me,

you are skilled inbreaking wild horses.