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Black Horse

You were my fantasy.
The loyal knight
in shining armor
come to rescue me
on your black horse.

Not white.
You would never do it
so cliched.
I learned that about you.
always different,
never the same.

You rescued my scarf
from the glacial winds.
It twisted
in the air
writhing like a snake
that couldn't find the sun.

You used horse
to reach it.
Furthering my desire
with a cheap frame
that could hold
a picture
of your pretty face.

That's my problem.
Reality
and
Fantasy
are twisted together,
their colors
mangled
so you can't see
the sky.

Where did my fantasy go?
You gave it to me,
when we met.
With a shell-covered picture frame
and
a scarf
blown away in the wind.




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