A Book

You are sure that I could
and you know that I would
I did follow you down that road
the one that you paved with your own words
the one that led me to the woods
where you grow trees that hold a story in every leaf
told as it falls down to the ground
re-told with every gust of wind
murmuring around Alice´s shoes
left by the hollowed yet alive oak
where rabbits and china dwell
foolish lure past the hole
just an illusion to distract me from it
it...the tiny window
an opening to your mind hidden behind a cabinet
but I can see
and it grows bigger in size as I approach to it
and right is no longer right and left is on the other side
far away from the Queen`s garden where you are King and Pawn
and the skies are not blue but hold the colors of your mood
so I walk through the window
and I see you
the essence of you
I read you