I lugged the chair to the top of the stairs
even though it was full of rain. I dropped it
from our attic window. I was stunned
by the sound it made when it hit the ground.
It was full of tiny rabbit bones.
I destroyed a nest, a home, a bundle
of new life. Those little eyes saw nothing
but the underside of paisley. My heart is
tangled thread with a hidden silver pistol.
I do not deserve to pray.