You were a horse yesterday; what happened? I rode you places under the hot sun. You fought off flies with your tail and we galloped knee deep through rivers. When apples fell off the tree and we weren’t in a big hurry, I let you bend down and eat them. You loved every minute of it, I thought. Just the word “saddle” sounds erotic. Didn’t you say that? You either said it or thought it. I liked wearing spurs and petting you. The way you shook your head a vehement no to mean yes? I got a lot out of that. We hate change, remember? We used to throw rocks at the stars and talk about how much we hated change. Come on back to me, horse. Nail your shoes on one at a time with your fingers and trot home.
Molly Laich lives inside her laptop. You can find parts of her at wigleaf, Necessary Fiction, PANK, Specter Magazine and so on. Molly tweets about fruit @MollyL and blogs about love at http://www.mollylaich.com.
image: Heather Reynolds
More Web Features
Most Recent
- Fablegun Construction
Drew Mosman - Umbilical Rights to Sunday Rites
B.J.Y. - [bused in michigan winters, I believed the honesty of strangers]
J.L. Moultrie - Failure to Disappear
Faryal Rashid - “Fuck the Future, Join the Freak Circus”: A Review of Jessamyn Violet’s Venice Peach
Melissa Pleckham - the head of the mule deer in your father's den was a gift from his cousin
Eric Subpar - Regretting the Times I’ve Watched Hot Tub Time Machine: Why a 2010s “Dick Flick” Always Fucks Me Up
Art Tavana - Negotiations
Rachel Young
Genres
- Poetry
- Fiction
- Book Review
- fucked up modern love essays
- Rejected Modern Love Essay
- Nonfiction
- Interview
- Sports
- Trip Reports
- More Genres