Untitled #4

My friend once said I was a fox, and so my world ran through that lens.

The fox wished to be
less dishonest.
Wipe the sly grin away.
Yet,
she sits
With a bluebird
In her mouth.

The fox crept away
In shame, in disgust,
in victory.

Back in the burrow,
the fox peaks out into the black.
She sees Orion's strength,
she decides she was strong enough
Just then

To bury
that bluebird's
bones.

Author's Note

The spaces, the spaces.
Always with me.
It's either a story or a confession,
depending on how you read it.