The woman you want most…
Is a unicorn.
You will never tame her.  
Your ring will never contain her.
Your name will never claim her.
She is wild as the moon,
Shimmering white,
The ghost of your mindsky’s night.


You can try to forge a bridle,
Made out of plastic credit,
And dollar bills.
You can try to form a saddle,
Secured by the thrusts of your cock
Or the seed of your children.
And she may wear both bridle
And saddle.
But in her heart she is wild.


So the only way to tame the unicorn,
To set your inflamed heart at ease--
Is to become no longer a man,
But the grass on which she grazes,
The wind that rustles her hair,
The ground on which she sleeps,
The sun that warms her skin,
And the hand of every cowboy
She chooses to fancy for a dance.


For none but the universe itself can
Tame a unicorn.
So become the universe,
And she will be yours.

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