The Stallion

“I’m supposed to go home”, she said looking into his eyes.
They shone like black pools of ink where all of her words
were swimming in his understanding.

The way he calmed her fears within was surreal.
She had always been a hippophile, not for hobby,
but deeply seeded into her heart.

She could not deny the connection she felt
with this black beauty. So raw it was as
if their souls had touched.

He pawed his hoof into the dirt,
she knew her Stallion was waiting for her
to embrace the inevitable.

He was waiting for her to ride away with him
unbridled, with the sinking sun, into the
colors of the Western sky.

V

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