The Sky Was Full of Horses

The sky was full of horses that New Year’s Eve, just after midnight, when you stood on the porch with the party behind you, looking out at the river, a thick black rope on snow, and the cloud-coloured beasts crashing towards you, bigger than angels, minutes after the year split in two, a cross section of ecstasy, and the champagne taste still on your tongue while the promise of sacredness swelled in the air.

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