the sacrificial bull is in love /
he’s slammed the gate on territorial battles and /
locked stares at passerbys /
the short knives make him giggle /
he’s stopped drinking /
saving the puddles for his own reflection /
magpies play hopscotch on his back /
he can look at the sun all day /
waving his tongue at the loitering clouds /
the rumbling under his hooves is a tickle /
as he turns away from the stampede /
now he searches for an empty spot /
where the landscape is unbroken /
to let a stray thought get tangled /
and warm his wet mouth for the first time
Categories