I aimed at the rabbit and missed.
My blood brothers laughed at me.
My arrow fell to the left of those lovely flanks
that were every river I ever wanted.
Because I wanted my arrow to miss you.
The rabbit, she kicked diamonds into the air
and was gone. I saw my entire life with women.
Lovely, doomed. “Run!” I prayed into her body.
“Ha! I am a boy!” snorted the rabbit
in my dreams that night, her hidden fur
grazing me as she agreed to become human,
to marry me in my weird moon cycles,
so I could die, young and happy,
on my beloved exile’s motorcycle that was Jim’s,
nobody you know, just a few years after.
My body found on a highway you still use
the nights you visit that cursed drunk
because he looks just a little like me.