Oh Alice,
My lonesome child
Of a soapy bubble on a parallel stripe
Alice,
My gypsy child
Floats 'tween stations on moonless nights
She's the tired ghostof a burial site
Little Alice,
The flaky child
Of shifty glances
lowered eyes
And violent love on summer nights
Alice, Alice,
That wicked child
With claws in my heart she casually smiles
Like a dying mortal I plead for life
Looks away
heaves a sigh
Of her love she chooses to deny.
1 comment:
erm.. quite a creature, aint she? almost alive.
has a very 'oldsy' tone. when did you write it?
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