wonderland alice has insecurities

skin stretched tight across bone,
the elastic salt is a shield.
it burns red-hot like embers and coals,
sweat droplets fire-walk across the smoldering bed of ashes.

i exhale.

a sharp stick causes the fire to converge;
i wish to evaporate.

he sits high above the rest in a judge's stand,
each paper signed and set aside as easily as the rest;
i flutter to the floor.

his sweat drips on the patrons below
from his furrowed and unkempt brow.
they throw their heads back to catch the precipitation on their tongues,
one taste and they're obsessed.
i keep my seat at the witness stand,
for now.

he loves so easily that i have no face or name,
the cheap generic brand that never tastes as good.
the judge sells his body and convicts it to a cell
but the name-less face-less broad stays at the stand
and she's convicted, too.

she could leave but her self torture is her lust.

knowing is far worse than any twisted daydreams;
it's reality.