I have made of myself a rabbit.
I can no longer speak. Language
is only the click click click of my heart
ticking faster now.
I stepped out of my dress.
I autofilled myself. I slipped
the grey skins over my head.
I know you love to watch the animal
of me, my fast-pounding brain.
How I enter the garden
to pluck berries with my teeth,
then the (...) (...) (...) of my leaving.
I know you love to watch the end
of me. I vanish beyond the field
whose borders I built
with your thousand barbed unsaids.
I vanish into the sky.
I vanish into the moon,
this lemon slice of dead volcano.
Here I wait, my fingerless ears
poised as satellites, projecting my rabbitshaped
silence on space’s blank walls.
Something I don’t understand about myself
makes people want to hurt me.