High Horse Sestina - Shadow

She was red from brow to chin, her eyes a stark flare.

A droplet leaked from eye to cheek; the starry eyes blurred.

I’m on a high horse; a single hair doesn’t tickle in my nose.

Her foot turned, and the stars fell off their glistening.

My foot moved too, turning back off her trail. “I was right.”

Thump—my ears drummed, I turned, and my eyes drained.

She was limp, and red was gushing out. “Her blood is draining.”

My eyes stranded, I tore my shirt; the crimson wound flared.

Thud-thud, my heart beat—my fingers dialed, “I wasn’t right.”

Red sirens rang, my feet stumbled, and my vision blurred.

My hand grazed my eyes, trickling, and my fingers glistened.

My horse’s legs broke, and all the hairs rotted off my nose.

Ambulance: Eyes gazed at her stony face, once pressing her nose,

Now a lore, trampled hard—her face and hands now drained.

I pressed my hands together; the blood on my hands glistened.

Her images tangled, her giggling against the morning’s flare.

Her face sizzled—the sky gushed out crimson blurring.

Pressing my hands hard together, eyes closed, “Please be all right.”

Her image appeared, and she spoke, “You loved me, right?”

Her arms—carmined, “Embrace me; you liked pressing my nose?”

My pupils pricked, feet backed, and her face was sizzling—blurred.

My face trickled cold sweat, and my tongue was saliva-drained.

Her fingers crackled, and her blood-wine-red eyes flared.

All was painted red, her eyes full of stars—glistening.

The sky stained dark orange, cracking lines spread and glisten.

Ears string, my love—you loved—you loved—you loved me, right?

“Sir,” a voice said. My pupils dilated from the morning’s flare.

I stepped in the room—I plunged, “Wake up, pinch my nose.”

Her body hardened, cold; the beauty now paled and drained.

I squeezed her hand. “Wake up; without you all is blurry—blur.”

My eyes turn to the window; the high horse is broken, life’s blur.

The face shone back in the pane, and my eyes glistened.

My brows are all pale, “she’s gone—aged me,” fluids are drained.

My hair’s as tangled as the webbed mind, “Everything’s all right.”

My fingers lifted slowly, grazing lightly as they pinched my nose.

My heart bumped—bump, a gushing blood—it flared.

My vision blurred; a thousand images of her glistened.

Thud, I stumbled, heart bumped, “Now it’s very right.”

The morning’s flare grazed my drained body and my nose.