Jill Stockinger
Desire
It saddled and rode me
like a jockey rides a horse.
It whipped me into frenzy,
slashing with barbed whip,
drawing blood from my flanks
as I strived to overtake you.
On I raced, but you remained
firmly out of reach. Exhausted,
I finally gave up the chase.
You’re’re not such a prize.
I have decided I will wait
for one with a more placid gait.