Improvisation (Girl)

I think she wanted to explain the silence hidden within her voice— blue egg in the nettles. She wrote something on a rock, used the rock to bash in the skull of an injured deer. Bloodied swan-neck arms. She slinks into her own viscera, a baby fox backing into its trunkhole. The wordbone's connected to the gutbone. Meanwhile, her desire for nobody now bucks like a rabbit under her ground.