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White Rabbit

Pity the woman that feels
her soul falling down the
Rabbit hole,
The intricate madness of all things joy and despair.
Where down is up
And up is down,
Riddles become the silenced of
A former lovers sound,
And sweet nothing's are rushed
Instead of hushed into slick
Dick magnificence that births
Life of lust.
Pity her
For she keeps falling more
Endlessly
Darkness becomes a tunnel
Pigeonholed and clipped wings can't fly
Nor see. Air all around, wishing
For the solidarity of
Sweet soil of the ground
The firmness of real arms
The swooping of a hero absent
A man, not everything,
Shoulder not wept on
Laughter not heard.
She falls.
Deeper.
Deeper, still.
Fall deeper into what can be and what could be
The what ifs and mere possibilities
The congratulations and bittersweet salutations
The false hopes and can't cope
Of being with someone
That isn't your second heartbeat.
Memories.
Grasping at straws, fragmented.
The keen remembrance.
I remember. Do you?
Most importantly, I remember how you
Made me feel and
Touch becomes more than lust and this is
Surreal and
I scream in my body this is all of yours
You are all of mine
And somehow, someway,
You begin to cross through the prisms of time.
The day is morning, and you stopped me
The time is now, and I halt you.
But you won't.
And I don't.
Tick tock
Goes the clock
And follow the white rabbit
To the false land of dreams-
I always meet you there
And in reality you always
Wanted to escape me
To forget the woman
Falling down a black hole
Of infinity.

-brr

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