You’ll lead four white horses, like
a pageant. Or, perhaps, world’s end.
And you’ll ask me to choose.
I’ll pick wrong. The love horse –
Apocalypse. You’ll ride off on Freedom,
the one I should have chosen.
My weakness (for you)
Published by Richard Holt
A writer from Melbourne, Richard maintains a number of blogs exploring very short fiction and text-based art practices. His stories and poems have been published in both mainstream and alternative journals and collections. He is also a visual artist and was co-founder of both Platform Artists Group and zine store, Sticky. He continues to publish very short fiction and conduct microfiction workshops for practicing writers, students and others. He has created numerous text-based installations and artworks for public spaces, including at Federation Square, Melbourne and in conjunction with the 2017, Newcastle Writers Festival. View all posts by Richard Holt
Published
small stories about love 
wonderful, insightful poem, well done!
This is so lovely, Richard. Ilka