i.
We ride horses in the slowly-falling snowand you tell me it is Summer, it is warm,and I don’t quite believe you, but I love you,so I go along with the oddly humorous
deception. My mother says “Love is blind”and “Hindsight is 20/20,” but it doesn’t help.The horses trot, the rhythm transmittedthrough our bodies, the horses somehow
one with us, and we are terrible beasts,half man, half horse, truly and fully awful.You say we have so much in common, so many
of the same life experiences, but those are liesas well. You lie and lie and lie as if breathing.And I believe. I believe. I stupidly believed.
ii.
In the early 18th Century, it finally appears in English:from the Latin manipulus and brought by the French,the word manipulation quickly became common.In the word we find hands,…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, May/June 2024