Variations on a Theme: Hikoboshi and the House of Mirrors
Saru Potturi
Chevaline (Rode a Stallion Once in My Life)
Rode a stallion once in my life
A rich father's attempt at reconnecting with his son.
But the fault never lay with him--
I never wanted to be known.
The stallion didn't either. He was a beastly thing,
Blue like the deepest parts of the ocean,
Paint speckles flecking off him like he'd come undone
Any minute. Any second now. And I
Sat on that horse and held the reins in my hands
Pulled and felt a tightening around my own neck.
Woke up sweating, bare back
Slick and sticky against unfamiliar sheets.
You were on the balcony taking a smoke.
I've always hated that you smoke.
In another dream you blew a puff
Over the stallion's head, he chuffed and whinnied
You put your hands on either side of his face
Said I know you, and that haunted me.
Have never dreamt of monsters
Under the bed—only those
Of my own making. But you know that.
You know me. You know how this will end.
The ocean's deep will drag me back
My father will line my casket with silver
Mourn the son he never knew.
The fault, I repeat, does not lie with him--
Neither does the stallion with me,
His body too big to fit in the shipwreck.
One day you will feel your way out of that brick well
Find his carcass, maggot-eaten
But the meat's still tough and raw and good
Will you sink your fingers into it?
Will you feast on chevaline for days and days?
Will you love me even after you've forgotten?
Will we ever admit, out loud,
That we've known the horse's name all along?
Rode a stallion once in my life
A rich father's attempt at reconnecting with his son.
But the fault never lay with him--
I never wanted to be known.
The stallion didn't either. He was a beastly thing,
Blue like the deepest parts of the ocean,
Paint speckles flecking off him like he'd come undone
Any minute. Any second now. And I
Sat on that horse and held the reins in my hands
Pulled and felt a tightening around my own neck.
Woke up sweating, bare back
Slick and sticky against unfamiliar sheets.
You were on the balcony taking a smoke.
I've always hated that you smoke.
In another dream you blew a puff
Over the stallion's head, he chuffed and whinnied
You put your hands on either side of his face
Said I know you, and that haunted me.
Have never dreamt of monsters
Under the bed—only those
Of my own making. But you know that.
You know me. You know how this will end.
The ocean's deep will drag me back
My father will line my casket with silver
Mourn the son he never knew.
The fault, I repeat, does not lie with him--
Neither does the stallion with me,
His body too big to fit in the shipwreck.
One day you will feel your way out of that brick well
Find his carcass, maggot-eaten
But the meat's still tough and raw and good
Will you sink your fingers into it?
Will you feast on chevaline for days and days?
Will you love me even after you've forgotten?
Will we ever admit, out loud,
That we've known the horse's name all along?
Saru Potturi (PO '24) is a poet-writer currently exploring themes of liminal spaces, bodily functions, and non-individualized memory.
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