Whisper soft, dust-filled larynx;
My shining silver suitor,
Come sweeping down to save me.
Oh, breathe hard!

I lick my finger to be sure
That the slightest aspiration will
Carry me toward my intended destination…
No, hollow winds from planes and
Valleys already traversed
Fool me.

The roar afar is merely aural mirage,
Seducing my mind into collages
of chip bags and rags
Petalling the path of your arrival.
Betraying thunder of iron hooves
Set on another trodden trail.
You set me so aflame that
Even when my own horse
Finally lopes asunder,
I, exasperated, frustrated,
Cannot forgive your blunder.