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  • Writer's pictureTuur Verheyde


The Mare creeps like

A man, shrunken and

Shrivelled, onto sleepers;

Pressing the breath

From the chest with

Its dark gallop. Charms

Exist against it. I say:

Honour Epona, greatest

Of mares. Pray that she

May recall her runaway

And let your sleep canter

Daintily towards dawn.

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