The Cheshire Cat grins
his white crescent smile—the only
light shining above. Stare into
his twinkling eyes. He’s wrapped up
cozily in Night’s blackness blanket.
The crescent is projected upon the ground;
spaces between the teeth
create a pattern—one mosaic represented
by many projections
all melting into one, creating faceless
shadows, flowing along edifices, concrete,
seeping in and out of the cracks
where loneliness resides,
dancing across landscapes,
coating whatever figments stand in the way.