IV. Ice Horses

          These are the ones who escape

          after the last hurt is turned inward;

          they are the most dangerous ones.

          These are the hottest ones,

          but so cold that your tongue sticks

          to them and is torn apart because it is

          frozen to the motion of hooves.

          These are the ones who cut your thighs,

          whose blood you must have seen on the gloves

          of the doctor’s rubber hands. They are

          the horses who moaned like oceans, and

          one of them a young woman screamed aloud;

          she was the only one.

          These are the ones who have found you.

          These are the ones who pranced on your belly.

          They chased deer out of your womb.

          These are the ice horses, horses

          who entered through your head,

          and then your heart,

          your beaten heart.

          These are the ones who loved you.

          They are the horses who have held you

          so close that you have become

          a part of them,

                                  an ice horse

          galloping

                         into fire.