• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 11
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For you

I would run circles for you
in the heat of the sun.
My hips bled
Stomach ached
Back swayed.
I was beautiful
when I was born.
Now imprisoned in a cell of moldy alfalfa
I dream...
I dream...
I dream of pastures so wide
you cannot see the fences
I dream of apple trees so full
they drop apples into my mouth
I dream of my mum
Pretty mane flowing as she runs
We run
We run so far
We leap the fences