Alice

"Here comes the fear again. The end is near again."

She was Alice that morning
Through the looking glass
Born from strobelit exertion
to a monochrome sunrise
that glared between city limbs
as a voyeur in defiance
while the sky bled futile grey

Adrenaline memory faded like old film
watched endlessly
A goddess in smeared lipstick
crying mascara tears,
painting grief unsubtle on a child’s face
Worn from so many fantasies
Weary from so much hope.