I dropped a white rabbit emoji
at the hypnotist’s feet. He asked,
Why rabbits? Days passed. I sent
more rabbits. Why on my mind,
loud Debussy, sunset, a sip of tea
and honey, I realized the rabbit
was an invitation: Does he want
to follow me not-home? Does he
know I brighten on the edge of
these strange woods, trees giving
way to water, pools to ice caves
onto whose walls I scratch my
name? People reveal themselves
by moving, home to blue lagoon
and back. Maybe I need to watch
him turn from blur to face as
the woods close their doors,
because frontiers are temporary.
I must settle at my desk, record
the rush of falling while climbing,
admit rabbits have all along been
nothing but bait.