her eyes shatter & scatter across the floor,
flickering fragments of déjà vu.
she laughs in three hundred and sixty degrees.

he approaches with fistfuls of concentric lifelines.
“you were in my tarot cards last night.”
he remembers her (cheshire) grin before she smiles.

“not in this lifetime,” she says, speaking in echoes.
her words ripple outward; chaos theory glimmers on her lips.
“perhaps the next, or in those that came before.”

but his smile is molten gold and his eyes are tattooed.
his shadow is simmering and smirking her way.
memories elude her like fairies: fleeting, fading.

the white rabbit ride begins and ends here.
they are already moving fast-forward nowhere.
she does not turn away, but frowns like a queen (of hearts).

“fate or destiny?” her voice is full of edges
& he wonders which one he should jump,
should he remember how to fly or she remember how to fall.

he flashes a (pirate) smile that reminds her:
even lost boys can’t escape their stories.
he speaks subliminally. she understands.

“why believe?”