Wild Horses

Wild Horses 

you might have well have
loosed wild horses at your
imperious signal to thrust
bullets of hoof prints over
my heart 
you might have well 
as I stand at the edge of 
incomprehension 
feet leaden - locks
of ball and chain 
frozen in a single 
paralytic spot 
wondering at the wind of
vitriol that rose to whirl
in vicious vacuous 
stoned laced stings 
where love once had 
lived 
and now cheeks cut, heart
bleeding under the cloven
hooves of your indifference
this heart under which
you once grew from a single
cell seeks to repair itself
alone as you plant your 
unfamiliar flag
on a hill of your own making 
with those of your own chosing 
never looking back