Over long, daisy-chained summers
an imaginary horse might move,
I took on the actions, my hands
were the hooves, my feet made the noise
and as I galloped, friend after friend
joined me, became a parade.
if a lovebird really knew
how to love, or if his feathers
grew like a rainbow,
the truth was all in our eyes
as we rolled ourselves into small
bundles, took on the hills, the grass,
the bark, grazed our bodies,
earned scars for life,
what adults did all day.