In my next life, let me be after Natasha Rao BY BEE LB a rabbit or a bunny, little body, big teeth. let me sink into something crisp and sweet, let me nibble with delight, let me gorge myself on the garden someone else has planted, has tended to, has sweated over and into. If I must be chased, let me feel my heart sing in my chest with the thrill of delicious theft. Let me outrun my aggressor, let my legs carry me home, let me crawl, satiated, into my little bunny bed. Let me imagine bunnies have little beds to crawl into, burrows warm and welcoming, drowsiness to settle. I have always been afraid of eating to fill, never theft but the threat that follows. In my next life, let me know only the present moment, a full belly, a garden that is not mine to return to again and again. Let the shotgun remain unloaded, let the garden sprawl so my intrusion goes without notice. Let me feel my legs strong beneath me, my heart fast within me, my brain so small the burden of consciousness is not mine to bear. Let me live a short and beautiful life. Let me know the split and spill of a grape between my teeth. The sharp dry crisp of a radish. The sweet crunch of a carrot, followed by the earthy leaf. Let me know a garden feast without guilt. In this life, I hardly know fill without overfill. In the next, let me know my limits and meet them with grace. When I meet this end, let it be due only to time. Let the thought of ending early never enter my mind. 25 ART BY LINA GVOZDEVA
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