My love is silent as I slumber on,
A day rises beyond my window frame,
And in my fragile body, I grow lame,
But I found a mirror all decked and don.
What odds that a looking-glass cause, Alice,
Placed outdoors I can see a younger me,
Under the sun, I am basking carefree,
Passing familiars whom I cherish.
A reddish sun drawing...
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