Racing

Every fucking time.
You do this every fucking time:
Your mind gallops ahead
Into the realm of fantasy,
Hurtling blindly,
Hustling ignorance,
Promises threaded into its mane
And hope burning its hooves,
Fleeing the lassoo of your heart
Left behind in the dust,
Spluttering and anchored,
Furious at the wildness
Trampling the wilderness
That it lies in,
Content and alone.
While days and weeks,
Maybe even months
Howl down the neck of your mind
Until it is suffocated and frightened,
Tripping over the fine hairs
Of your promises
That have come undone,
Revealing their fragility
And netting themselves like traps,
Until it crashes to a halt
And finally surveys the future
That looks nothing like
The blur it chased.
Exhausted, it turns around
And limps back along the trail of dead ends,
Splitting each hair under the weight of defeat,
As you know he will,
Until it is roped back by your calm heart:
Finally, you accept the quickened beat
Was merely the drum of frantic hooves
Sounding in your ears.
Every fucking time.
Reunited, mounted,
They rest,
And once more start to learn
The mirrors in the other’s eyes.
Straw in mouth,
Your heart ponders whether
Anyone will have the presence
Of mind
To accept your wayward one,
And if any heart is brave enough
To dare
The wilderness of your own.

GOUCHOS copy
Photo by Lesley Donald: http://www.lesleydonaldphotography.com

Read my novel here.

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