Consider this your fair warning.

There's no turning back now.

You're leaving your

Blanket of cleansed gospel

For the smut of vicious truth.

You won't need your own wool coat

Because out there the sun beats through.



So interlock your fingers with mine

And squeeze tight.

Stay close behind.

We haven't much time

So I'll cut to the quick.

We'll burn the midnight oil.



The sun will peek into our windows

And be surprised to find empty beds,

Walls naked, our closets stripped

Of all its threads.

We will awake in a new world.

Our own island.

This floating mass.

A jagged slab.

Where bulbs burn for us until the end.



When dawn arrives

We'll be ten drinks deep.

If we can fight off turning horizontal,

We'll explore our new home

And find similarities at every turn.



No matter how far we go

It's all a fragment of a whole.

Even it all locks are keyed

Or calloused become our feet.



No matter how far we go

There's no escaping the glow.

We'll take our seats at the throne.

Wonderland is now our home.