what a fool am I for busying myself
when I could be indulging in idle day-dreaming,
letting the sun’s whiskers tickle my naked arms,
allowing its paws to carry me onto Alice’s land.
what a fool am I for the fervor I feel
as your heart marauds about me like some feral fox
ready to leap onto mine; but naïve I am not,
for before you came my way, my beloved,
I saw into your wile.
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