NIGHTMARES, MENOPAUSE AND INDIGESTION.
They came at around two in the morning, Bridled and supreme, Black, glittering, so certain of themselves. They climbed on and rode me as if I too was a horse. How they rode me. I thrashed and gurgled I garbled, no shining rescuer came, They rode me, on and on they made my sleep a dark fury Elevated in time and space I had no control, completely yielded. They were cocky and dropped my bridle as they rode me…