i am not
the mare at your bedside
gazing erotically
at the suffering in your sleep
i am not
the transcending white winged horse,
i can not hold the weight of the one who will save you
not Uchchaihshravas,
i have only one sagging skull,
too crippled for a king's crown
my neighing cry lends itself to demons,
these wooden hallowed insides
do not hold warriors
so suited i am a crippled pony,
abandoned by the herd
my bloody knees and hocks
are the stench of weakness and sign of failure
the horse is an animal i have never touched,
a wild thing i dare not discover
so suited i am a crippled pony,
an unwanted mystery lying in the barn dust
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