You're teetering on the edge of Alice's Rabbit Hole and magpies are meandering over your head, watching you with cool, cool eyes following you down into the cool cool tunnel. You gulp roses so thorns will stutter underneath your rib cage and erupt into thick, red, blooming welts across your chest.
The stardust coats your tongue, your words dripping with galaxies of imagination.
The stardust coats your hands, the shattered planets