Monday, March 07, 2011

Bleeding Alice

She was counting hairs
and, forgetting time,
made light of daily cares
with a naughty rhyme.

Her clear eyes flash
in light's refraction
and boldly mock life
in mimed perfection.
                                     On naked glass
                                     her image bleeds.
                                     Hands cannot cup
                                     water from these
                                     seas.


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