An Aside: This is one of the titles offered as an option in a June Vote on my Patreon.
Although it didn’t receive the highest votes, I still wanted to share it.
I’m proud of this one, and it felt like it needed to be out there.
The High Horse
instead of a graceful
dismount: too prone
to riding the wave until my weight
buckles, levering my locked knees;
>
I am spit, flung, split
along a rocky shore, sand
scrubbing my cheeks and shells
digging into the soft meat
of my gums. I groan and grunt,
>
curling up my bloody lips
pulling back my swollen tongue
splaying wide my ash-creased palms–
>
surrendering my throat to the sun,
my shoulders to the slap of salt-thick wind,
summoning my demons to feed
on my broken dreams.
>
let me lay aside my errant energy
and sink into the Mystery
that first taught me to breathe
V. H. King's Ink 
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