You as Prairie. Me as Grass.

~Prairie ~

 

If you were prairie and I was grass

devoted to your skin,
mustang and antelope
would pound me into you

with their bone-hard hooves

as they run wild over your body,

while the occasional fire,
born of lightning-bolt
nights of merriment,
burns me to ashes.

 

And though you feign sleep
as your body cools,
your smile,
mottled with my black remains,

exposes your attraction
to tumbleweed rambles
and dust devil flings.

 

D. B. Tompsett
 

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