Maud Pie placed Boulder on her table.
Her feelings for him were unstable.
Her love for him was very strong.
But also it was very wrong.
She cleared her throat to speak a poem,
From her secret, private tome.

“Subduction.
Plates grinding.
Fissures deep within the earth.
Friction.
Molten rock.
Mounting pressure from within.
Earthquakes.
Steamy vents.
Building up for release.
Eruption.
Rocks fly.
They spill upon the open ground.
Boulder.
Igneous rock.
You are sperm of the earth.”

Maud panted and she drooled too much.
Her body longed for his touch.
She found her tail rise up high.
It wasn't hard to know why.
She shook her head and hunkered down.
This couldn't work. She had to frown.

But upon her table there
Was the rock within her lair.
She could not just look away.
Her love was true and there to stay.
Her passion spilled like a flood.
Perhaps a poem could chill her blood?

“Boulder,
You are rock.
Me?
I am pony.
We are different,
You and I.
We should part.
This won't work out.”

Her words were empty and they stung.
They felt like lead upon her tongue.
Her logic might be cold and strong,
But how she wished it could be wrong.
Her body though just did not care.
She longed for Boulder sitting there.

Her teeth were clenched. Her eyes grew damp.
Her heart twisted with a strained cramp.
The moon was high in the night sky.
The clock ticked once. Time passed them by.
Maud couldn't let this moment go.
Another poem, just for show:

“Boulder,
You are sexy.
Me?
I want you.
We are lovers.
You and I.
We should fuck.
Let's grind together now.”

Those words she spoke betrayed her mind.
It fought back hard. It was unkind.
Their union would not ever work,
Her mind scolded, it was a jerk.
She looked at Boulder; passion burned.
Her longing ached. Her blood churned.

With each heartbeat her lust did grow.
She wanted sex. Just who would know?
Her mind faded beneath her heat.
Though it was wrong, she spread her sheet.
Her lust was far too strong to fight.
She had a new poem to write:

“Seduction
Legs spreading.
Boulder pushed into my cunt.
Friction.
Hard rock.
Rising to my climax.
Moans.
Steamy Huffs.
So close; almost there.
Orgasm.
Sweet release.
I spurt upon the sheets.
Boulder.
Lucky rock.
You made me a mare.”

Maud felt guilty, and doubly so,
For they just had another go.
They fucked and fucked and fucked some more,
Her lady parts were now quite sore.
The rock, Boulder, eroded some,
And left fine grains like rocky cum.

At last upon their final fuck,
Maud's emotions ran amok.
She was happy, pleasured so.
Her body happy, she did glow.
Forbidden, this did horrify.
She tore away and fled to cry.

“Boulder.
You were my rock.
Sediments made me sedimental.
I feel igneous.
It's my fault we thrust.
Should we fissure?
Or can we metamorphisize?
I... feel hollow.
I don't know what to do.
I am gray.
Like a rock.
Which you are.
My rock,
Boulder.”

Maud returned to claim her Boulder,
Pocketing him by her shoulder.
“Perhaps we should forget this, dear.
None can know what happened here.”
She felt so bad to hide their joy,
But this truth, it could destroy.

The days went by, their secret safe.
Against her soul, tough, it did chafe.
To hide the love for her sweet stone,
Deadened her voice to monotone.
She wondered why her urge for sex
Had faded to minute specks.

It's been a month; Maud had to know.
What had stopped her natural flow.
She never thought this could be true,
A bright pink test made her spew.
This paper's right. It had not lied.
Her womb was now quite occupied.

“Boulder.
You gave me joy.
Sentiments made me sentimental.
I am scared.
You will be a father.
Should we come clean?
Can we hide this still?
I... don't care.
I don't care what we do.
I am happy.
Like a mare.
Which I am.
My love,
Boulder.”

Faced with an upcoming foal.
Maud did have to set a goal.
The reason for her secrecy.
Had to be faced. This she could see.

It was weird between them both.
Mare and rock, they would face loathe.
But if a child could be born,
There was no reason for this scorn.

“My family would forgive us someday.
But yours–”
Maud choked up. She could not say.
Her past regrets did sting her heart,
She knew that they'd never depart.
“Our wedding would fail. So why bother?
Boulder,
I never should have eaten your father.”

By: Palm Palette