As if we were not humans, as if we
were horses walking around laying on
our sides in the grass. Talking with
our stature. I was brown, you were a
paint. What a pleasure to leave
language, it was spacious. The space
immense and soft, but felt. Imagine.
We were horses and we ran at
comfortable speeds off the ledge
and into the green water.

Hot meat and flatware. Peril. Peril.
Sitting in the chairs, we eat and feast.
For the first fifteen seconds--
laughter.
For the first fifteen seconds--
(body standing like a cross)
laughter.
With? Which is to say: blithe.
At? Which is to say: ugly.

Who still seem sober, we rush them to
water. Our clothes are torn.