In my room sits a perfectly still bunny.
She shines against the lamp’s dull glow.
Whiskers of blue never twitch, hands of
Grey ceramic fold in a prayer of silence.
The long ears seem to hold her head back,
And she stares at me through lone blue
Eye in her prayerful pious pose, she stares.
Whenever I speak to her she doesn’t nod,
No matter my tone; and my touch yields no
Shrinking, only the cold hardness of
Her smooth head, her fat cheeks, her long
Ears pointed backward in a V.
I stroke her as I speak,
“Listen Ms. Bunny, I don’t think
we can be happy. I am warm and feel
My pains, but you cannot.
You are cold and smooth and I forgot
Long ago, how to still myself in quiet
Prayer and simply hold my head high.
Look though, and I will look also.
Let us fall in love with looking only.
Let us know of our desires to be
Like one another and love instead, this ..