A handful of water thrown like glitter to bead against reflective floors Mirrors my cage in a hundred different ways If I look closely enough I can see myself that free, that open With every breath I taste the sharp tang of memories That without you will never sit with sugar on my tongue again Now Iβm not blaming you or this wooden heart that bobs aimlessly without direction upon this endless see of caged reflection Just exercising atrophied muscles with which I learn to stretch, to feel Without drowning these polished plains I place cold feet on each morning I am Alice here, skirts twisted above my head to obstruct the view Although I know I do not wish to see itβs vast edges Not unless theyβve painted you