Raptus

Mares are articles of beauty, saddled for the wild ride;
they lash through thorny undergrowth, where pain
is braised in unctuous hot blood.

In screaming wounds the sun pours her golden
hairs -- these threads rich in venomous preserve.

My bleached corpse fades into a cloud of
scaly parchment and wavers soon as a fluttering
swarm into the heavens to hail their seething
lust.


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