To Love A Far Field

Like a bull in his
Own pasture
Stomping and kicking
The innocent grass
Tearing its roots
Against his weight
And force of will
Breath—hot as
Blood-red cuts
From barbwire fences…

Like a bull in my
Own mind
Stomping and kicking
What innocence lasts
Tearing its roots
Against my fears
And force of will
Thoughts—hot as
Blood-red cuts
From the fences I build
To keep us apart





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