SHE SAYS SHE’S A HORSEYGIRL, AS IF THAT EXPLAINED EVERYTHING
There is always dust on her jeans
Her hair is like a torch of satin flames; honey and fire, sunlight and copper; spilling from a ball cap.
She wears sunglasses, even in the dead of winter.
She’s unbelievably strong and agile.
She’s empathic at a level others never comprehend
She doesn’t think she’s graceful, but she is.
She dances when nobody is watching.
She towers over most women, and looks most men directly in their eyes.
She is a carnivore, and will admit to eating things with faces, but then smiles deviously.
She can back up a thirty-foot bumper-pull horse trailer into the tightest spot—in one try.
She can load 3 horses, by herself, just by pointing.
She can back up a 2000-pound animal with a look.
She knows what knot, to know.
She’s open, and ugly-honest about everything.
The opinions of others, are none of her concern.
She is precise and clear with her communication.
She never makes assumptions.
The word, ‘wrong’, does not exist in her vocabulary.
She is calm and balanced, yet decisive and direct.
You always know where you stand, and how she feels.
She loves adventures and getting lost in the woods.
She believes balance is key to everything.
Her faith game is off the charts.
She’s incredibly passionate, sexual, alive and open.
She claims the best drug on the planet is a gallop down the beach,
Or sex with, him
I love to watch her move amongst the beasts she guides.
When she’s atop, no other can compare with her erotic beauty.
She is a centaur of elegant, fluid exquisiteness.
A part of the dance in a way others envy.
Someone broke her trust, and she no longer believes love can conquer all.
She never talks about it, and refuses to linger too long in the past, or play victim to anyone, but he broke her heart and she never truly recovered.
I see it in her eyes when she thinks she’s hiding behind that slaying smile.
She says, she’s a horsey girl, as if that explained everything.