Once
I saw a silver stallion
soar across the sky,
his hooves striking and sparking
on the silent night.
'
I touched his heaving sides,
smooth as glass,
cold as ice.
'
But underneath, buried beneath his mirrored hide,
his heart pounded
hot as magma.
'
I looked through his eyes--
two chips of crystal--
to his mind,
'
a flash of a dying star.
'
And with my hands in his mane he shattered
and his heart burned my fingers
'
and silver stained my palms.
