is a horse.
dappled gray,
breathing hay and warm eyes
a quiet mane
i am no cowboy and this is only wishful thinking
you are not my pen but i am writing
cold prose with dappled hooves
painted the way you hold me
warm and breathing
hard knees gripping
muddy gray legs running
i'm speechless
leather, love, the smell of hay
hold me forever
cheek pressed against mine
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