Once upon a time a girl wished for true love, and who should come knocking at her door but a
black bull. They were wed that night in a circle of joshua trees. She insisted it was a mistake,
cried off all her sugar skull makeup, tried to hurl her heart against the thorns. She carried on like
this until all the guests had gone home, until she was no longer able to stand. Despite herself, she
wrapped her arms around the bull’s glistening neck. His throat pulsed like a vein of magma, and
she knew it was her body that heated his blood. She shuddered and lay still against him, her fury
blown from her body by the Sonora wind. Above her head, the wedding ring swung from his
septum like a hollow moon, so big she’d have to wear it as a collar.
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