Wonderland

Drink me dear,
and you shall grow large.
Larger than the hands
that reach from the dark,
larger than the blinding sun
and even larger still,
and we shall stay here,
safe in the garden,
so vast and unyielding
that nothing in all of wonderland
can ever harm us,
never, not ever again.

But my dear, if the sky is too much--
then take a bite of this.
Let us fold ourselves down,
smaller than the eye can trace,
smaller than the breath of a moth
or the prick of a thorn.
We shall slip beneath
the floorboards of the world,
tucked between the roots,
where the heavy boots of man
can only pass over us
like a distant, harmless thunder.

They may look, they may rage,
they may tear up the earth,
but they will never be small enough
to step where we dwell--
they will not unearth
our strange, little heart.