i’ve dreamed like a stallion
but i’ve never ran like one.
bolting across prairies
and open fields
with open arms
and feet clomping
on the grass.
and it’s unfair
because you crawled
up the beaches and never
made a peep
and you drove for so long
that you started to hate your feet.
you couldn’t have chosen to be free
like me.
storms dictated your schedule
i can chase my tailbone
endlessly
in the eclipse of
the waking sun
and the pouring rain.
you’ve missed your family
so your father died,
and your mother only has one kidney
at least she’s alive?
you got robbed of your dignity.
bystanders tell you to
loosen up your knees.
you flail when it’s time to go to sleep,
something i have taken for granted
since i was thirteen.
you have possibly
dreamed like a stallion,
but you never got to believe.
you’ve begged God to just let you
jump from the empire state building
at six fifteen for some
strange reason.
have you ran like a stallion?
with your mouth agape
your lips pursing
your armpits sweating?
have you dashed
through farmlands
and markets and cornfields?
feeling the gatekeeper in your
chest start cussing and blurting
out words you haven’t
heard
since the day
your brother
slapped your
sister?
i’ve dreamed like a stallion.
wild, free, and intense.
i dreamed i would escape
into the sunset, bathing
in its rays
spread all over the place.
and one day,
i hope to run like a stallion
with no worries, just the starlight
on my back and
thunder crackling in my veins.
and one day,
i hope you do the same thing.