Bent over the painted lines of her road.
Stood a black feathered crow
peeling back a tendon of flesh,
Like a strand of red twizzler candy,
from the tannish white fur
of a dead bunny.
she thought this was cute.
"AWW! THEY'RE KISSING!!"
Her daddy did not correct her.
This memory, he revisits every time she brings a new boy home.
Debates internally,
the tipping scales that balance ignorance and optimism.
If maybe he should have explained the beauty in death, rather than let her beleive her illusions.
The beauty in nature, the circle of life.
Like a cat, she brings home dead animals
Like the owner of a cat,
He is unimpressed.
Maybe if he told her the bunny was dead, she would stop offering herself to the crows.
