The First Easy Breath- 2019 Poems

Stallion// Midnight Glory

One of the swim coaches is really hot

Mexican I think

Pierced ears and chiseled as fuck.

A tan blaze of commanding glory with that rasp in his voice, glass crackling in the process of being blown.

I wrote your initials on my wrist. With an arrow striking through.

I've never done that before

Never marked my skin with someone else's name.

Branded myself as if ownership had already been given.

I'm no ones mule

Nor do I perceive thats what you make of me.

But i wonder if the initials are my frightened subconscious trying to hold on to the idea of something already clenched in my fist.

A warning, a reminder?

or truly a stain of some smitten one wandering off in her mind to the catharsis of her breathless nature whenever he is nearby.

What is crackilng glass to an Italian breeze?

What is command without a conscious?

Stone breaks, shapes fade, but kindred spirits latch palms recklessly and restlessly with permanence

What is the appearance of a man with the characteristics of a boy?

Tis nothing that could persuade this rebel to break.

I am a beast many have believed they tamed

Every suitor testing how well their bit fits in my mouth

But truly it is I leading them around.

I'm not looking to be fenced in

i'm looking for who can keep up.

For the driving force in my chest is a stallion that comes from my mouth and exudes from my mannerisms.

Toss your cloak aside and instead give yourself a longer stride.

There be no business of riding here, only running.

You and me, into the purplest of skies.

Burning lungs racing toward sunrise

Glow of a fog laden horizon emulating embers from our eyes.

Now a phantom lies any trace of anyone else.

It's you.

Midnight glory.

It's just the beginning but,

I already love our story