Little cunning foxes jumping over bushes,
              slaughtering the sheep I have been counting in my sleep.

I hand-pick plump raspberries while I watch the foxes
              rip out their throats, all of our lips stained red & ******.

My hazy sepia toned dream shimmers as I sit in the grass,
              sipping on a glass of arsenic laced strawberry lemonade.

The cool sun hugs my skin and my collarbones
              that jut and cut my finger as I brush a hair off my shoulder.

I look down at the pin ***** absentmindedly and glance
              at my foxes as their black eyes gaze upon me wildly.

Magenta stained muzzles set in stone as they begin to roam
              surrounding the circumference of my skirt, snapping their jaws.

Ebony teeth tearing me like cloth, jerking my body like
              a frail little rag doll dancing with these fiendish, lovely beasts.

They leave me quietly, bones picked nearly clean, waiting now
               for flowers to bloom in my hollow chest and my empty eyes.