Day 11, blocked again.

Alice Strikes Back

-

she returned, her pockets full of empty bottles,
and the last spirals of smoke coughed upwards
from her lungs.

Spit-ridden, she lunged at you, laughingly;
sniffing at the back of her hand like it was holy
and gabbling stories of giants and lizards
and the taste of the back of her head.


I found bits of your broken hand in my shoe,
and tacked it to my wall out of spite.