She holds the broken bird
In her tiny hand
She thinks she can fix it
I would not like to break her dream
Chop off her head like the Red Queen
We are all dealt our cards
And she can make things live
Be tender and sweet
We have been running through
Passageways
Full of windows
But no doors
I stand alone outside the shop
Where women sell their souls
It would be nice to take tea
Watch the horses
Running in the field
We stand by a lake
Our umbrella on fire
All we want to do is sleep
Under a canopy
Shiny as stars
Soft grass beneath us
A cosy pillow
Birds twittering and talking around us
We wish for this
But I pause and look at
The bird in Alice's hand
How quickly life can pass
How hard it is to catch it.
