Run rabbit run.
You.
a defiant pulse of color on the whitewashed hallway—
I think that I knew that you would leave eventually, and
I think that it’s fitting that we would discard you silently
and collect your traces like streamers
the night after a sweaty school dance.
Run rabbit run.
in my head.
you’re already walking away. Pointed nose, black hoodie you
recede into a background of doormen and dog walkers and snow
serenaded by the fanfare of car horns and delivery trucks--
i wonder when you stop and realize that you are alone.
Read more Run Rabbit Run: A Poem at The Toast.
