Improvisation (Girl)

I think she wanted to explain

the silence

hidden

within her voice—

blue egg in the nettles.

She wrote something

on a rock, used the rock

to bash in the skull

of an injured deer.

Bloodied swan-neck arms.

She

slinks into her own viscera,

a baby fox

backing into its trunkhole.

The wordbone's connected to the

gutbone.

Meanwhile, her desire

for nobody now

bucks like a rabbit

under her ground.