Racing

Racehorse

The Kentucky Derby was yesterday at 4 pm and the bullet shot

Like a fire in the air.

Her eyes are rolled back like the way the sea curls into sand

Blast off

She smells like Black Velvet whiskey and shaky hands

Her heart thumps across her wrist, her neck, her stomach

The hooves trample the earth with a terrible sound

Fear, basing itself in a quiet open invitation for death to unravel

Dust trail

Her face is flushed with the alcohol flourishing through her veins

Strings of muscles built up in anger and anguish

Two razor sized cuts on her left arm with strings of blood

She's the year of the horse and moans about the flow of water

Grace-filled tears

That's what happens when she begs for forgiveness in my lap

My frustration biting at my throat and the thought of hitting her

Climbs up my chest and rears its ugly head

But god the good ol Kentucky Derby is coming on soon

With whiskey bulky in her throat and anger misplaced like bullets

Her heartbeat is strong like a racehorse, vital signs

Ambulance, vomit, police, questions-- build up

I look down at her and wonder what if she does die

And then my heartbeat moves, thumping against ground

Movement

Racehorse.