when she was a child marie decided to live her life as a horse she greatly enjoyed her agony but eventually the humiliations of the saddle lost their appeal she lives with me now in this house where every night we play the same game it begins at dusk marie taunts me with her naked breasts which hang like dazzling moons then i dump one of our many overflowing ashtrays over her body the ashes cling to the urine on her torn clothes forming new amusing patterns each time at night she reenacts scenes from her passion she kicks and screams on all foursher violent dressage thrills me when she is too tired to move i collect the bitter flakes from her head i press against her naked body and squeeze it until she loses any remaining pretense of beauty these acts are nauseating but necessary