Carrots.

I was in love with a man who lived beside a donkey, maybe there were two because a donkey should never be lonely. I asked him if he ever fed the donkey a carrot or an apple and he replied that he would never because then the donkey would have expectations. I could have read this as a sign, but I imagined I was more loveable than a donkey.

I was wrong. Donkeys are infinitely lovable. Ask Jesus.

And the truth is I was already with someone else who lived around the corner. I was in a state of heightened comfort, but it wasn’t love. Yet. I snuck a walk past the other man’s whare and fed the donkey a carrot.

I fed the ghost donkey an apple.

Now I love animals more than men. And if I could have anything it would be a field of donkeys playing with their rubber chickens. Honking and stamping and deeply unemployed, freed from having to shoulder the world.

From my bed I open my window to them in the morning, and they bray we love you we love you get moving woman get up.