There is a man with a helmet and stirrups
long boots and smiling tall, but saddled
on my daughter's back... for a decade
Riding her around the manor, kept in a separate room
in that remote castle above the cave of his dungeon
where she sleeps with ears plugged with her fingers
And waits, waiting for this part to pass, ten years
I have seen it and believe -- tightens the straps
around her shoulders, across her back, under her belly
The bed is breathing, rises shifting of its own weight
sinks into the corners and rests forever against the wall
all night in the empty spaces of the his and hers house
The taste in my mouth is like torture, keeps building
long after I've nibbled the corners -- what can one do?
what monster lives among these and those hundred acres
2011
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