Girl who Loved Horses

Bred in the cream-rich country houses Long dressed and dreamed by her father for Her swell and perfect press of breasts She rides the king’s men and horses Wrestled colours and words to tear All soft and legendary flesh

Bred of flesh and poor of spirit He, with hope of a high lady’s hand Begged the blonde woman and wooed her weak With words he would give his flesh to inherit A riding mistress he’d bear on wings of sand She painted him with lashes on his cheek

Pray that this girl and her prey may part: Pray, O my soft and lady-ridden heart