Stallion



There you are. 

In the middle of a dozen crowded buildings. 
A farmers tan caresses your skin,
You cast your eyes on the people
But that's all they are to you. 

No emotions.
No substance. 
You want something more. 

Despite the commotion
You see a glow,
A woman selling flowers. 
Her hair hangs low. 
You watch her for a moment. 
Take it in one breath at a time. 

Lines formed from people to people. 
From people to food. 
From people to buildings. 
Her flowers remain untouched. 
And she smiles still. 

You approach hesitantly,
Like passing a letter to a classroom crush. 
You approach hesitantly,
Like an animal smelling an unfamiliar scent. 

She had been watching you for some time now,
She says pushing her curls behind her ear. 
Wondering which part of her bouquet you would pick. 

You say nothing still and leave her with loose change. 
You take no flowers. 

You run away. 

You wanted to believe.
You wanted to take your heart out of your chest because you were afraid someone would hear it.

And so you ran.

You ran into the crowded buildings hoping the crowds would save you still. 

You are a stallion,
Your hooves move faster than your brain. 
You rush past the wild brush fire
Of your burning home. 
And there she is, 
At the end of the forest,
Not as a person,
But as something electrical 
you've never seen before. 

But she does not wish to tame you.
She wants to bask in your presence
Because your glow resembles her's. 

Love is terrifying. 
Love is thrilling. 
The flowers are still. 

Do you think of her?

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