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follow the white rabbit.

feed your head!

what did the dormouse
really say?

i don’t remember.

sick sisters, sleep breathing,
pictures of things with m’s.

stop growing at such a ridiculous rate.
progress without conscience wins again.

i see me in the looking glass.
the same and opposite.

streaked and full and plain,
my alice face tells me a secret.

“she is in the well.”

i freeze
not believing
she is dead.

her spirit treads treacle.