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Backbone Seat

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The sun is beating hard, and the leather between
My hands is cracked, but supple.
UV rays glide over copper hair and make it
Shine a violent burgandy. She snorts
From exertation and digs her hooves in deeper
As she slids down.
My thighs feel like they will snap in two
And a trickle of sweat glides down my face
But I laugh because we are gliding
Down the steep slope jerkily.
Her shoulder blades move sleekly
Up and down each time she plants one steady foot.
I have clamped my muscles to her flesh
Because I have no seat
But her backbone and no safe hold
But reins that move on pressure.
This small risk makes me laugh again
And we finally hit the bottom.
She moves out quickly, glad to be on
Level, stress-free ground.





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