Where do lies grow?
In whose garden?
Couldn't be mine.
In the un(in)tended garden...
How could I know?
These vines clamor and climb
with flowers bright as blight.
The blue-green water holds its tongue
but secrets leak out on the shore.
A billion tears will drown this Alice,
and a million years will turn her teeth to stone.
How could I know?
Couldn't be mine.