Poetic Sketch: I'm an Adulterer

Whitetail lays his head down on his ground  
The predator stole winged shoes to run from his home  
To kiss the subject of his infatuation all over its blistered face  
I wait for my buffalo ride away in the hills for years in grace

Belief in god is different when you're young  
You can still see his face painted on ceilings in a bedroom  
And we're still too young to be anyone's groom  
I force myself to sleep and you're fired from a gun

Everything is happy for a short time  
But everyone else can see the storm ahead  
While I can still feel the appetites that you fed  
I can see what they're all talking about too  
I've got all the Protestant names carved in  
And you have the same Old English I knew