You are sleek and stunning, galloping in the glade;
So beautifully alive and free, I am drawn to your danger
and the possibility that I could be the one to tame you.

I step into the openness, and you stride towards me.
Your skin is like silk under my coarse fingertips
and you kneel, allowing me to mount you.

My body is so far off the ground, I feel as though
I am part of the sky; a star happily hidden
by the blazing brilliance of your sun.

But the sky grows darker, and you begin to lope,
as if daring the pursuing storm to be as wild as you.
The satin filaments of your mane are slipping through my fingers.

Thunder claps, and I am thrown from your back,

caught only by the rugged edge of the glade.
I lift my bruised eyes to witness your raging ferocity.

You are striking and untamable, bucking in the glade;
So bewitchingly savage and brutish, I was but a fool
to think I would be the one to tame you.