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Los días corren como caballos salvajes por las montañas by
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allyson dunn-worthy
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It’s autumn, it’s trees, it’s telephone wires,/ and she sings some song I can’t understand, some High Mass of Life.
She went on singing but I wanted to die / I wanted yellow flowers like her golden hair / I wanted yellow-singing and the sun.
This is true, and that is what makes it so strange: I wanted to be opened and untangled, and / tossed away
— Nov 15, 2025 10:13AM
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She went on singing but I wanted to die / I wanted yellow flowers like her golden hair / I wanted yellow-singing and the sun.
This is true, and that is what makes it so strange: I wanted to be opened and untangled, and / tossed away
