The night sweats tonight, her dark sinew shook by lightning.
Thundering are the Gods’ bones cracking, shooting mustangs into my dreams.

I am the legs that heave and strive across the flat earth,
I am the hooves that beat and cut the grasses down,
I am the surge, the rush of awakeness,
the pinch of a muscle that is set to fly.

The night is tossing but I am of weight, limbs, hair, breath;
Gods have no say as I ride.