In my next life, let me be
after Natasha Rao
By BEE LB
Published Issue 124, April 2024
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.
BEE LB is an array of letters, bound to impulse; a writer creating delicate connections. they have called any number of places home; currently, a single yellow wall in Michigan. Their portfolio can be found at twinbrights.carrd.co and they can be found, on occasion, posting excerpts of poems on Instagram.
Check out BEE’s last Birdy install, While In The Wild West, and keep your eyes peeled for more work by this talented poet and writer.
