Studying anatomy as my own changes.
My nerves float, swim, drift, up to my skin
past my skin
till they rest, just above my warmth.
People walk by and I shudder.
They take my hand and I swoon.
Interactions not swathed in the softest intentions
send me to my knees
seared and broken hearted.
It’s not fair to wear your heart on your sleeve.
No one committed to kid gloves.
But if someone doesn’t pad these corners soon,
the Rabbit’s gonna get it.
