The Maze Bull

How she squats
as though to
shit, but instead

delivers me: mossy
spine, incipient
horns--

like a boy's
dry nipples--above
my eyes.

*

Sometimes
he loves me:  goading
me with the bobbed
sword or watching me

struggle up
the beach, my hooves cutting
into the sand

even as my brain
cries "foot."

*

Nearer here
to heaven than you
might think:  spiralling
walls, though I cover

no distance; sudden
pairs of guests,
clean and unclean; a thousand

torches.  The afternoon
sun reflected off the lenses of a fly.