It was the first time I had let a man pay
for the pleasure of my company.
I never told you that,
trucks and dull hobbled ponies
and appearances
on your mind.
In the morning, I raced her down the paddock.
No circles, no hobbles—
free,
until the fence.
You said I wouldn’t have to worry,
that I would be taken care of,
as if it were a freeing concept.
What widow has found comfort in that?
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