forks without handles

i’m obsessed with horses
in paperback novels.

i’ve never read a novel with horses in it.

chairs have four legs
but no eyes.

trees devour the forearms of the moon.

trees devour the trembling branches
of a dandelion’s lip.

even if it’s not, so why not anyway?

even if it’s not you,
i don’t remember anything.

i am obsessed with paper horses,
the sounds of their hooves on pages,
the whispers
of their coarse fingers