like how under the hooves of a crimson stallion

i.
like how under the hooves of a crimson stallion
are hidden smaller, bleeding horses,
each dagger-tip of the star begets illuminated suffering.
our hearts lie in deathly rows of duplication—
red horses against green grass,
yellow stars against red silk.

ii.
in the space between outstretched fingers
i found four generations under one roof;
the felled familial tree regrew out of the barrel of a gun
with the following carved within its rings:
a branch unfurling into new leaves
leaves no trace of past sins.

prompt: explore how things break, branch, become fractals-- where does the importance in repetition or breaking away from it lie?